


Honor Bright

by VR_Trakowski



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, but always a happy ending, did i mention the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It always comes down to choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Most of the characters and situations in this story belong to the Wachowskis, Dune Entertainment, Village Roadshow Pictures, and other entities, and I do not have permission to borrow them. All others belong to me, and if you want to play with them, you have to ask me first. No infringement is intended in any way, and this story is not for profit. Any errors are mine, all mine, no you can't have any. The opinions expressed by characters in this story may or may not be those of the author. 
> 
> Yes, I'm still working on the next chapter of _Rise_. This may serve as a distraction. Many, _many_ thanks to [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/works) for looking this over for holes; any gaps are my own fault.

"I do believe it's ready, your Majesty."

The felid Splice held up the vial for Jupiter's examination, and her Majesty leaned in for a closer look. The substance was navy blue and lacked ReCell's glow, but it had a subtle glitter and rippled against the inside of the vial as if it were alive.

Caine reflected that in a way, it _was_ alive. Though he'd only understood about half the scientist's report when he'd read it; he was a soldier, not a scientist.

"It looks good, Dr. Vinge," Jupiter said, clearly pleased. "What kind of test do you have in mind? You've run all the sims, right?"

"We have, yes." Vinge's tail twitched; unlike Caine and Stinger, her Splice characteristics were very obvious. "We're about to ask for human volunteers."

Jupiter glanced around the big lab. It had been one of her first projects, when she'd settled into actual rule, and she'd skimped on nothing. The lab techs were all lined up to watch, and there was more equipment than Caine had seen outside of a ReCell refinery; all of it pulled together in the search for the key to toppling an empire.

To Caine, the ReCell industry was a distant fact of existence; he understood Jupiter's horror, but he didn't feel more than a sort of remote distaste for the practice. And the stuff had saved his life more than once - and Stinger's, and Kiza's.

But his Queen wanted to end the Harvests, and he was starting to believe that she might somehow manage it. _Out of sheer stubbornness, if nothing else._ It was just one more reason he loved her -

"Well." Jupiter reached for the sleeve of her shirt and began to roll it up. "Since I commissioned this crazy idea, it seems like I should be the one to test it."

Caine flinched, and Vinge's ears went flat against her head. "Your Majesty!" she protested. "You can't possibly risk your safety - "

Jupiter lifted a brow at her. "If it's safe enough to test on humans, then it should be safe enough to test on me."

Vinge's tail lashed, and her colleague Dr. Grant wrung both sets of hands. Jupiter looked back at Caine. "Give me your knife, please, Mr. Wise."

Her face was calm, but he knew the gleam in her eyes, and he chose his words carefully even as he reached for the sheath strapped to his leg. "Your Majesty...it isn't your place to take this risk."

Jupiter's brows drew together, and it was a measure of their bond that he could face her calmly. He didn't want to point out that her researchers were on the point of panic, it would only make her feel guilty, but he knew he'd have to act quickly. Arguing with his sovereign in public was bad protocol and it hurt his stomach anyway.

Caine always kept his blade sharp. It was easy to draw the edge across his forearm; blood welled up in its wake, and he barely felt the sting.

It was Jupiter's turn to twitch, and he could smell her shock. She glared at him, he could feel her eyes without even looking up, but he didn't look, instead holding out his arm to Vinge. "Doctor?"

She snapped into action, her own nose twitching, gesturing him towards the patient bed across the lab. "It needs sterile isolation. Sit down, Mr. Wise."

He sat obediently and held still as Grant set up the sterile field around his arm; it always felt a bit odd when the greenish glow swept across his skin, but it never hurt. Vinge snapped a spray nozzle on the vial and put her hand into the field, which surrounded her fingers with a sparkling shield; the spray was neither cold nor warm, and looked almost black beneath the field when Vinge squeezed the trigger.

Caine felt the bed give a little as Jupiter sat down next to him, and her hand slid into his free one, fingers interlacing with his in a firm grip. "We'll discuss this later," she said in an undertone, but she sounded more rueful than upset, and she smelled less of anger and more of anxiety. Caine squeezed back, and didn't let himself smile.

The sting was already abating, though Caine couldn't tell if it was due to the spray or just his own body dealing with the tiny injury. The sterile field blurred the view just enough that he couldn't see details, though as they all watched the dark smear gradually shrank; about ten minutes after it had been applied, the last few drops turned an ashy grey.

Vinge trilled softly. "That's that," she said, and snapped off the field. "Let's have a look."

The cut was completely gone; Caine's skin was golden and unmarred, even the downy hairs restored. He raised his brows and blew out a sharp breath, impressed.

Grant made a bubbling sound of approval, and clapped Vinge on the back with both right hands. Jupiter laughed, her grip tightening. "That's amazing!"

Vinge grinned, and used a suction scoop to gather up the grey droplets. "One quick examination, Mr. Wise, and we're done, though I'd appreciate a chance to look again later if you'll permit."

Caine nodded, and let her run scanners over his forearm and mutter with Grant. Their work was not a replacement for ReCell, not if it required a sterile field to work, but it was a good start, and he could feel Jupiter's exhilaration as she watched. Almost two years of effort...who knew what more time would bring?

When they stepped out of the lab building, the afternoon was golden; Dvodie III's vegetation tended towards shades of yellow and bronze, and the lowering sun lit the trees with warmth until the alcazar grounds looked molten. It was a beautiful world, and Caine understood why Jupiter had chosen it for her base of operations - not least because it resembled Earth in many ways.

The place was as safe as could be expected, Stinger saw to that, but Caine still slipped his arm from Jupiter's as they passed through the doors, widening his senses to check for possible threats. Her Majesty was used to the protocol and simply continued at his side, glancing back to make sure her small retinue - her senior secretary and two synth-guards - was following.

Jupiter's alcazar was actually a number of low buildings spread out around a natural lake, with winding paths between; Lady Kalique called it "rustic" and it certainly lacked the impressive architecture of many of the holdings Jupiter had inherited from Seraphi, but Caine suspected she liked it all the better because it wasn't so imposing. The many buildings made it harder to secure, but the complex was enclosed in the best in protective tech and Jupiter had given Stinger carte blanche to hire personnel, so even though the grounds were open to the sky it was safe enough for her to wander around as she pleased.

It was just as well, Caine knew, because she would have done that anyway. But it made _him_ feel better, at least.

"What's next on the schedule, Miss Vee?" her Majesty asked, and her secretary, a peabird Splice who'd been part of Balem's estate, slipped up to join her.

"You have the next two hours marked as 'Private'," Vee replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "If I recall correctly, you threatened to - I quote - 'run away and join the circus' if the time was not kept blocked off."

Caine bit back an undignified snicker, and Jupiter grinned. "I always liked the trapeze artists. Okay, dinnertime; you can go eat too, Miss Vee."

"Your Majesty." The secretary bobbed her head, having learned early on that her new employer didn't care for elaborate obeisances, and strode away.

Jupiter veered towards the lake-side building that was her private quarters - and Caine's. Caine fell into step beside her, the synths following, and they walked in comfortable silence for a bit. Caine reflected that most Entitled would have used some sort of conveyance to get around - physical exertion was seen as déclasseé among the First Estate - but Jupiter usually refused to consider it unless the weather was bad.

Protocol was protocol, but as they turned down the path that led to the lake her Majesty's hand hooked through Caine's belt, and he let his own hand brush it, a quick caress. "A whole two hours," he said, keeping his tone sober. "That probably caused Vee pain."

Jupiter snorted. "She likes a challenge." Her glance up at him was lit with amusement. "You know, if it only takes us half an hour to eat, that leaves ninety minutes just lying around loose."

Caine licked his lips at the surge of anticipation. "May I inquire as to her Majesty's footwear this evening?"

Jupiter stuck out one foot. "Just plain old boots today, sorry."

"Not a problem." Caine lifted her into his arms, grinning at her chuckle. "We wouldn't want to waste any of those minutes."

Jupiter's arm went around him, and he crouched and leapt easily into the air, letting his wings carry them both up. Her Majesty's head rested against Caine's shoulder, welcome weight. "Vee's not the only one who likes a challenge."

Caine tightened his grip in lieu of a reply, and flew a little faster.

The message came through just as they were finishing dinner - which had ended up in the last half-hour of Jupiter's break - chiming with Caine's urgency alert on the nearest console. He laid down his fork and ducked his head in apology as he rose to check it, but Jupiter just smiled permission in return.

The message made him frown a little, though it was hardly that unusual - just not something he'd seen since his reinstatement. _Report to Post 17-8387-129 for special assignment._

"What is it?" Jupiter asked, sounding curious, and Caine shrugged and tapped the panel to forward it to her sheave.

"A summons up to the local Legion post. No details, but I can guess." He resumed his seat and reached for the sweet goopy stuff Jupiter referred to as "mousse"; his translator implant kept telling him it was a large boreal mammal, but it certainly didn't taste like one.

Her Majesty skimmed the message, then set down the sheave and stole a spoonful of his dessert. "Mm?" she said around the utensil.

Caine swallowed his own bite, suddenly uncertain. "I know Stinger explained what I used to do for the Legion. Solo missions."

Her face went sober, and she pulled the spoon free with a pop that would have been distracting at any other time. "Yeah..."

Uneasiness itched up his spine. "That's probably what this is. A hunt."

"Weren't those - um." Jupiter looked away, and Caine could finish her sentence in his head. _Assassinations._

He'd never cared, before; a mission was a mission, and obedience was a Splice's first duty. He still didn't care, not for himself - it was what he was bred for, where his skills lay, and he was proud of his record.

But Jupiter did, and that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Caine searched for words, but before he found them she turned back, reaching out to wrap her fingers around his hand, and automatically he turned it palm-up to meet her touch. "Just be careful, okay?" she said, and though her eyes were dark, her voice was steady. "The Legion may have first claim on you, but I need you more."

The knot in his gut unwound, and he started to bend, to press his mouth to her hand, but Jupiter was already tugging his arm up, and her lips on his knuckles made his breath catch.

"Your Majesty," he managed, and felt her smile curve against his hand, small and worried and true.  

* * *

Legion Outpost 17-8387-129 was kind of a backwater, containing only about ten thousand soldiers and a similar number of support personnel; it was an unwieldy sphere of a station, bristling with at least five generations of weaponry and sensors. To Caine, it looked like a whiskery wart that had lost the backside it had grown on.

But the Legion wasn't about beauty. He docked the little runabout that he'd requisitioned from her Majesty's fleet - she kept trying to give him one of his own, but since he almost never went anywhere without her he couldn't see the point - and went in to find his way through the labyrinth to the intake office. The place smelled like recycled air and stale caffeine, comfortable and familiar.

"Report to General Atadie," the desk officer said, handing him a sheave without even looking up from his desk. Caine took it, but frowned.

"The general? Are you sure?"

"I just pass 'em on, Splice, I don't question 'em," the officer snapped. Caine bit back a tired growl and let it go, stepping away to read the sheave. Bigots were so common in the Legion as to be beneath notice - though it gave him an odd feeling to realize that he was using her Majesty's term. Before, the scorn of it would have been absorbed without a flinch; now it just made him impatient.

But Caine had no time for analysis at the moment. He scanned through the sheave, but all it had was basically the same vague wording as the orders that had brought him here, _report to the Command office for special assignment._ He thumbed the sheave off and started walking. It really was sounding more and more like a covert track-and-kill mission. Assassination in military wrappings - well, he was still a Legionnaire. _I just hope it doesn't take too long._

Outside the general's door Caine took a few seconds to settle and make sure his uniform was perfect. General Atadie didn't like Splices either, and it was best not to give him any excuse. Caine had never come face to face with the man before, just seen him at reviews and such, but he'd heard things - top brass always had stories told about them.

He knocked. "Come in," shouted someone, male and annoyed, and Caine stepped inside, gaze going automatically to the figure behind the wide desk and hand rising equally automatically in a salute.

"Lieutenant Wise reporting, sir." Then his eyes tracked right, skimming the huge lycantant guard standing against the wall and then stopping on the woman seated opposite, and he felt them going so wide that they ached, because she wore a face and bore a scent he had thought he would never encounter again.

And when she raised one brow in censure, an older reflex than the Legion's cut in, and Caine sank to his knees without consciously forming the thought, even as his throat tightened in revulsion.

Atadie made a disgusted noise. "That the one you wanted?" he said.

The woman rose. She wore youth the same way the Entitled did, a fresh pelt over an ancient soul, but of course she could afford it. Simone Thalassa walked over to Caine and took a handful of his hair, pulling his head to the left in a move neither gentle nor cruel, merely impersonal, and peered at his brand. "Yes, this is the right one."

"All yours then." Atadie tapped a button on his desk. "Your payment's already gone through, though why you want a failure back is beyond me."

_What?_

Sweat was starting up all over his body, and old memories were waking horror within him. Caine forced his voice to work as Thalassa released him. "S-sir - what - "

Atadie cast him a cold look. "I'm not your commander anymore. Your Splicer bought you back. We're going to want his wings back first," he added, turning to Thalassa. "That's proprietary tech."

_No._

"Very well, but do it under anesthesia. I don't want any unnecessary trauma." She straightened and walked back to her chair.

_No!_

_Your Splicer is your god._ It was the unspoken truth of any Splicing facility; the Splicer planned the outcome, mixed the genes, and studied the results, nurturing the successes and culling the failures. Splices were their property, with no rights; they were merely commodities. The Splicer was life and death, was absolute power - until a Splice was sold.

He was going back to that - and _away from Jupiter_.

There wasn't room in the office for his wings, but Caine blew them open anyway, using their power to launch himself to his feet and flip backward out the door. The huge wind of the downdraft had Atadie cursing and small objects flying, but Caine was already on his feet and pelting down the hall, fingers dancing out the code for his boots, other hand reaching for his gun. Shouts erupted and people dove out of his way, and Caine felt the fields take hold under his soles. He snapped his shield on - _faster, come on,_ _ **faster**_ _-_

Snarls and the heavy thud of feet told him the lycantant guard was pursuing him. Caine pushed harder, knowing he could outrun them if he had a clear path, and slingshotted around a corner.

An alarm blared, loud enough to make his teeth ache, and he cursed, forcing back a flood of panic and calling up what little he knew about the layout of the post. His only real hope was to get to a dock, any dock, and grab a ship with portal capability - if he could just get back to Jupiter he could claim asylum, it wasn't strictly legal but that never stopped an Entitled -

Another corner - Caine used his wings to help make the turn, then folded them tightly to reduce drag. The snarls were getting fainter, and he wondered wildly if he could get far enough ahead to disappear into a crowd, though they'd still be able to track his scent. He cursed again, this time at the protocol that put top officers at the center of stations, and chose the next hallway almost at random. _Think -_

Left, and then right. Somewhere behind him a chilling howl broke out, the sound of a lycantant on the hunt, and even though he was the quarry some small part of Caine wanted to answer. He clenched his teeth and ran faster. _The next one should take me halfway to the skin -_

He made the turn, but the alarm had taken effect. What looked like an entire squadron was boiling up the corridor ahead of him, weapons already out and firing. Caine skidded up the wall, shield forward, and was over half of them before they reorganized enough to shoot upward. His heart was shouting in fear, fear old and new, but the tactical part of his brain was coolly taking charge.

He cartwheeled down behind the squadron, firing back at them with the aim of clogging the hall; there were too many in too small a space to be effective. Some returned fire, but he blocked the shots easily; these were ground-pounders, not Skyjackers.

But they were also just the first wave, and as he skated around the next corner Caine knew that he had very little time. He forced back a flood of panic, and was briefly grateful that all his equipment was charged.

The next junction was a T, and another squad was thundering up from the direction he needed, and there wasn't enough room to go up and over. Caine flew towards them, letting his wings add extra speed, and slammed into the leaders. It was a free-for-all after that, an elbow-punching scramble of shouts and grunts and bodies lurching back and forth; Caine ignored the bursts of pain from fists and feet and concentrated on getting _through_.

He almost made it. Even when more soldiers bore down on them, he fought and fought, punching and kicking and clawing; even when they wrenched his wings back and pointed guns at his head, he howled and struggled and dragged his captors forward until they piled on him, six and seven together, dragging him down by sheer weight. Only when he could no longer move did he stop.

Caine could smell Thalassa when she came, even through the stink of two squads' worth of exertion and adrenaline. That dry, powder-sweet scent was one of his oldest memories, and nothing about it was pleasant. He could just see her shoes when she halted next to the swaying heap of soldiers holding him down.

"Sedate him. I don't have time to waste."

He couldn't help it. Caine strained to throw off his captors, snarled when the medic approached, wrenched his neck when a rough hand grabbed his jaw, but there was no escaping the injector, and its pop drove ice into his veins.

_No - NO - JUPITER!_

And he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/works) kept me on the straight if not the narrow!

Consciousness returned in a rush, and Caine sprang to his feet, teeth bared and hands fisted -

\- And nearly fell as he staggered. His balance was completely off, and he smacked into the nearest wall before he could stop. His wings were _gone_ , nothing left but numb spots on either side of his spine and the rewired portion of his brain aching with an error message.

He managed to get his body under control and put his back against the wall, but there was nothing to fight. The small room was empty but for the cot he'd been on and the little sink and toilet.

It was all too familiar, the smells of metal and cloth and old layers of fear, the whisper of the airvent, the cross between a hospital room and a prison cell - he'd been here before, or in a room just like it, but Caine had thought he'd left that behind forever when he'd been sold to the Legion.

Exhaling, he wiped shaky hands on his pants and straightened. They'd taken his uniform as well, even the boots, and left him barefoot in a plain coarse tunic and trousers, with Thalassa's sigil stitched into the fabric just below his throat, and no doubt it was on the waist of the trousers as well.

Familiar again.

Caine pulled his thoughts together, ignoring for a moment the miserable loss of his wings. Whatever they'd sedated him with had dissipated, leaving his mind clear, and he knew exactly where he was - the Splicing facility where he'd been bred.

_Back to the beginning._

Memories were crowding up, and Caine pressed his head back against the wall, trying to shove them away. Ten years he'd spent in Thalassa's complex, ten years from infancy to the day his contract had been sold, the same accelerated growth to maturity all Splices underwent. Ten years of loneliness and dread, of knowing he wasn't enough, could never _be_ enough -

_No. That is not who I am any longer._

He pushed away from the wall, flexing his shoulders carefully around his missing wings. The removal this time had been better done, which made sense; surgical extraction of tech was a much more precise task than a punishment clipping. But it was still terrible to lose them _again_ , even if it hadn't been Caine's fault this time. Wings were status, but more importantly, wings were _freedom_ , freedom and the air.

 _It's not like you could fly in here anyway,_ he pointed out to himself, but that didn't diminish the loss.

The care taken was a small mercy on the same order as Thalassa's demand for anesthesia - except there was no mercy in her. All it meant was that she wanted him in good condition.

_Why?_

It wasn't a question he could answer. All he had was the pounding of his pulse, panic barely restrained, beating out his Queen's name with every throb. _Jupiter, Jupiter._ She'd had no word from him and would be worried by now.

It was still a miracle, to know she would worry. _She_ was a miracle. Two years he'd been by her side, years that had turned his world inside-out and made him happier than he could ever have known was possible. Two years that had gradually convinced him that she really did -

It was still hard for Caine to apply the word to himself, but he did it now, with a silent snarl of defiance. _Love him._ She _did_ love him. And half the miracle was that she _still_ loved him. That two years after being pulled from a prison planet - a disgraced murderer, a court-martialed soldier, a misbred Splice - he was the chief bodyguard and true lover of the First Primary of the House of Abrasax. More power and wealth than he could truly understand, wrapped up in one small, fierce, wry ex-tercie.

Granted, it was more than _she_ could understand sometimes too. But the mere fact that she'd looked at him and never cared at all about his flaws, even when they were explained to her, had changed Caine irrevocably.

And she was going to be _pissed_ when she found out what had happened to him.

It was the only thing keeping him calm at the moment - the knowledge that his Queen would be coming for him. He had very good reason to know that when Jupiter really wanted something she didn't let anything stand in her way.

Caine rinsed his mouth and hands at the sink, drank a little of the water, and sat down on the cot again, and prepared himself to wait.

* * *

"Jarvis?" Jupiter had finally gotten used to using a chamber presence, especially now that it had been programmed with a little less obsequiousness. "Has there been any message from Mr. Wise?"

"No, ma'am," the bodiless voice returned. "As you instructed, I will alert you the moment any message from him is received."

She grimaced, more worried than she wanted to admit. Caine was scrupulous in obeying her lightest wish; if he hadn't communicated with her, it wasn't because he'd forgotten. _I don't like this_.

He'd sent an FTL from the runabout when he'd reached the Legion post, since there wasn't any live-comm facility available to him, but that had been over a day ago and there had been nothing since.

"Track his account. Any activity?" Caine had a private funds account issued by her personally, which he had accepted with a gratifying minimum of fuss, though as far as Jupiter could tell he used it mostly to buy gifts for her and Kiza. Normally she wouldn't violate his privacy, but -

"No, ma'am," Jarvis said after a pause. "His account has not been used in two weeks."

Jupiter hissed, and pushed away from her desk. "Is Stinger back from visiting Kiza yet?"

"He returned three hours ago."

"Find him for me, and have him meet me on the porch." She jerked a thumb at the broad patio that spread out from her private quarters and overlooked the lake.

It took only a couple of minutes for her Chief of Security to appear, soaring up from somewhere beyond the gardens and dropping down to the patio with a flourish of wings, waving off the synths perched above whose guns tracked him automatically. "Your Majesty."

Jupiter waited for him to fold his wings, but only barely. "Have you heard from Caine?"

He frowned. "No. Should I have? Diomika said he'd been called up to the nearest Legion post, but I figured he'd reported in to you at least."

Jupiter blew out a breath. "He called when he got there, but that's the last I heard from him. Could - is there something the Legion would ask him to do that wouldn't let him send a message?"

Stinger's brow creased as he thought. "Possibly, but it's not very likely. I'll look into it, Majesty."

"Do that," she said tightly. "Now, please."

He nodded, his shoulders stiffening, and she knew he shared her unease. Stinger dipped his chin and jumped into the air, not quite with Caine's power but with equal grace, and Jupiter watched him buzz out of sight around the edge of the roof before she went back inside.

But it was impossible to concentrate. Jupiter knew that the odds were that it was just a snafu of some type, a message gone astray or some other detail, and that Stinger and Caine would tease her later for her paranoia.

Except Stinger was taking it seriously. Well, he kind of had to, she was his Queen after all, but he wasn't acting as if it was just her latest whim.

 _I don't like this at_ _**all** _ _._

She was poking disconsolately at a perfumed missive from the latest in an endless line of Entitled suitors, and wondering how to word the diplomatic "no" _this_ time, when Jarvis announced Stinger's presence outside her door.

His expression had gone from concerned to puzzled - and grim, a combination that made Jupiter's stomach sink. "What did you find?"

"It's more what I didn't find, Majesty," he said, taking up a position near her desk that wasn't quite attention, but was close. "I got no joy from the post beyond what we already know - that he reported in as ordered - so I started sniffing around. Apparently he was sent to the general's office there, Atadie, but I can't find any record of orders issued after that. Not even sealed ones."

Stinger rubbed his jaw. "It's not outside the realm of possibility that he's been sent on a very sensitive mission, but there should have been _some_ record, and as his commander I should have been informed of his absence, as a courtesy."

Jupiter considered his words. It seemed like a handful of smoke, a whole lot of negative answers, but she had the feeling the smoke was hiding something. And one thing two years of ruling had taught her was to make use of expertise wherever she found it. "What do you think?"

"It stinks to the Long Arm, Majesty," Stinger replied unhesitatingly. "I don't know what's going on but I'd swear on my oath that it's not good."

A chill gripped her from throat to belly. "Who would want to take Caine from me?" she asked softly, more of herself than Stinger; the list was distressingly long.

He cleared his own throat, and Jupiter realized that her tone had also been icy cold. "If I may suggest, Majesty, the place to start is that Legion post."

"And you're _not_ suggesting I go up myself." She gave him a dry look.

"Ah. Not yet, no." His wings twitched. "But I can go. Have a look in person, talk to a few people. Some answers can't be found over a comm screen."

Jupiter didn't like that, either, but she couldn't see an alternative. "All right. But you take someone _with_ you, Stinger, hear me? If something bad is going down - I can't lose you too." She reached out to squeeze his arm, and his neck flushed the way it did when he was embarrassed. His lips turned up briefly.

"As you command, Majesty. I'll see who Diomika can spare, maybe Phylo."

"Not one of the royal guard?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"Too visible. If there's something underhanded going on, we don't want to be too splashy at first. And Phylo's good at casual."

"Okay. Stay in contact, Stinger. I don't want to have to explain to Kiza that I let you get lost up there." Jupiter raised a brow at him.

He scoffed, but dipped his head again all the same. "Aye, I will. We'll leave as soon as I've briefed Diomika."

"Good. Get out of here." Jupiter flapped a hand at him, and Stinger headed out the door at a fast stride.

Very casually, Jupiter made sure the door closed behind him. And then she laid her arms on the desk, and buried her face in them.

_Caine._

She'd blown past _worry_ and into _fear_ , and the only thing that was keeping her from panic was the knowledge that she was already doing the best thing she could. Or Stinger was, and perhaps that was harder because she had to _wait_. And wonder. Had Caine's mission gone wrong? Was he stranded, lost, hurt?

Or worse?

_Caine, you had better be okay…_

It had been more than a shock to first understand that she was responsible not only for the population of Earth but also those of a terrifyingly large number of other planets. But those were - still - somewhat _abstract._ She hadn't even seen some of the worlds with her own eyes yet, let alone met any of the inhabitants. And Stinger and the former Aegis crew and even Kiza seemed to have all sort of come along for the ride.

But Caine -

Caine was _hers_. In many ways, some of which Jupiter didn't always understand, he utterly and firmly belonged to her, and by choice. The only thing that made it work for her was that _she_ was just as much _his_ , in all the ways that mattered.

But it was all tangled up in the whole Entitled thing, and being a ruler, and being responsible. If things had happened one at a time, their relationship might have been different, but they'd had to do things the way Gyre society did, and so while he protected her he was also under her protection.

Except, right now, he wasn't. And fear was edging towards terror; there was any number of people out there who would love to hurt Jupiter any way they could, and going through Caine would be an excellent place to start.

"Caine," she whispered, and the tears started, because the shy, deadly, bewinged, utterly sweet man with predator genes and a stubborn inferiority complex was truly the heart of her, the one true love her aunt had promised, and he _had to be all right._

Jupiter couldn't weep for long. She had a meeting with three planetary administrators that afternoon and a list of chores so long that it would trail on the floor if it were printed out, and nobody had remembered to mention that being a Queen came with a whole lot of _work_ as well as power, but -

\- But it would keep her busy, and maybe distract her a little. She sniffled and scrubbed at her wet face, then sighed. _So get on with it. If it turns out you have to go kick someone's ass, at least you'll have a clear calendar for it._

Rising, Jupiter headed for the bathing room to wash her face. "Jarvis," she said to the air, "any communication from Commander Apini is top-priority. I don't care what I'm doing, I want to hear it immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," the chamber presence replied gravely.

Jupiter set her jaw, and got on with it.

* * *

He didn't know how long it had been; there was no chronometer in the room and they'd taken all his equipment while he was out. But Caine felt as if he'd been pacing long enough to wear a path in the floor by the time the door opened.

He came alert; the two enormous figures that were first through the door were carrying stun pistols aimed directly at him, and Caine snarled a little and held back the urge to rush them. They were lycantants, half again his size and weight, and he recognized their particular strain; Thalassa bred packs of them for use as her personal guard, and they were genetically locked to her and her alone. At least one of the pack had been with her at the Legion post.

One stayed by the door; the other circled around Caine to take up position behind him, not quite opposite lest he be in his sister's line of fire. Both of them were utterly expressionless.

Thalassa entered next, followed by a _third_ lycantant, and somewhere in the back of his mind Caine was heartened by the fact that he was apparently a serious threat. But that unearthed reflex was still in force, and his knees bent as if he'd never left, and Caine's gaze dropped to the floor in front of Thalassa's feet, as perfect an image of submission as could be wished.

He'd _practiced,_ once upon a time, in desperate hope and fear -

She stopped a meter or so away, and Caine could hear the click as she thumbed through a sheave. Her scent was almost lost under the heavier musk of the lycantants, and he was grateful for it.

"R-2788-B7, that was your designation, wasn't it?" It wasn't really a question, and Caine didn't reply. Thalassa's products didn't receive names; that was up to their purchasers, or sometimes themselves, when they were sold. The Legion recruiter who'd purchased Caine had had a bad sense of humor, but his name had never been all that important to him anyway.

He heard her sigh impatiently, and then one toe tapped. "Look at me."

Caine tilted his head back. Thalassa was no more than medium height, with smooth skin a few shades darker than Caine's own and taffy-colored hair held in puffs around her head. Her eyes were hidden behind the lens implants she used in her work, and she didn't seem to have changed at all in the decades since he'd been sold.

"Do you know why you're here?"

The old words rose to his lips without prompting. "No, madam."

Thalassa walked slowly around him, the third guard waiting by the door. "You're a conundrum, B7. I see a fair number of failures in my work, it's inevitable. No matter how we refine our techniques and understanding, chaos will have its share." She stopped in front of him once more, and Caine kept his eyes on her face, trying to gauge her mood. "You were a borderline case, I'm sure you remember."

Of course he remembered. From the moment he'd first understood that there was something wrong with him, he'd fought so hard to make up for it, never sure if all his desperate effort would win him a reprieve, or if he would be dismissed as worthless and disposed of.

His instructors had reassured him that all rejects were euthanized before incineration, Simone Thalassa adhered scrupulously to all laws governing her art -

She tapped the sheave's screen. "I sold you for a loss, mainly because I hate to discard a project so close to completion, and it's true that your tracking skills are extraordinary. But I didn't expect you to survive the Legion for long - certainly not to make it to the Skyjacker elite."

The frames covering her eyesockets glittered as she triggered a lens change. Caine wondered what she was looking for. "And then there's the matter of your reaction to Entitled. All the more intriguing when put against this new Abrasax Primary."

Caine felt heat blooming in his head, a sudden influx of rage at the dismissive way Thalassa referred to Jupiter. He encouraged it; anger was better than fear, by far.

Thalassa snapped off the sheave. "In short, B7, you're a puzzle. You have gone from a discarded error and a convicted criminal to a famous hunter, a valuable soldier, and a favorite of an Entitled. Success after success, when you shouldn't have survived past your first year, and despite your anomalous anti-Entitled instinct."

She leaned forward just slightly. "I want to know _why_ , B7. Nothing in your geneprint supports your achievements. You are so far off the mark that I need to understand how you did it."

Caine swallowed. "P-permission to speak, madam?"

Thalassa considered, then twitched a finger at him. "Go ahead."

He didn't think this would work, but it might be possible to short-circuit this whole thing, it was worth a try - "Queen Jupiter won't be pleased by this. She _will_ demand you return me."

Thalassa laughed, the dry chuckle that was all she ever used. "An Entitled? Squabble over one Splice that was going to be gone in an eyeblink anyway? Nonsense." Her lenses glittered again. "Whatever use she may have made of you, she didn't even bother to purchase your contract from the Legion. Don't give yourself airs."

She turned and walked out, the guard by the door preceding her and the two with the stun pistols following, though one of them kept her gun trained on Caine until the others were out of the room.

He watched the door slide shut before he rose from his knees. Thalassa's departure seemed to leave a vacuum in the room, another familiarity, but this time he was somehow insulated from it. Perhaps because he was grown, now, and had proven himself capable of surviving and even thriving; perhaps it was the knowledge that Thalassa _was_ wrong _._ The memory was still fresh -

" _It's your choice," Jupiter says, looking up at him gravely. "If you want out of the Legion I will snap up your contract in a second, though you had damn well better understand it won't mean I_ _ **own**_ _you."_

_Caine grins a little at her vehemence, because she already_ _**does** _ _; but if she wants to phrase it that way, that is her privilege. "Yes, your Majesty. I understand."_

_The corner of her mouth quirks, but she doesn't look away. "So?"_

_It's one of the things that makes her different, her constant assumption that he, or any Splice, has a right to_ _**choose** _ _. And it's one of the reasons they all love her._

_Caine bows his head a fraction. "I like being a Skyjacker," he says simply. "I like wearing your sigil."_

_It is status, and a certain comradeship, and though his duties wouldn't really change if Jupiter did buy his contract, it's still an added measure of security to have the Legion's power behind him._

_And he will be able to keep his wings as well as the rank mark that includes her title._

_Jupiter nods once, firm. "All right, then."_

Caine pulled himself out of the past. Simone Thalassa had no idea of the bond between himself and Jupiter; in fact, he wasn't sure she could even conceive of it, or believe it if she did.

But he believed it. Believed _in_ it, after two years of learning gradually to trust that what Jupiter said, she meant. _All I have to do is wait._

She would come for him. And it was just as well, Caine thought darkly. Because whatever Thalassa had in mind for her study, there wouldn't be much of him left by the end of it. Simone Thalassa was _thorough._

A meal was delivered eventually, coming out of the slot near the sink. It was the same bland, high-nutrient packet he'd eaten every day in the facility, once he was weaned; something to be consumed, not savored. Caine swallowed it quickly and resumed pacing, but instead of the same contingency plans he'd perfected hours ago or the blankness of _waiting_ , he found his mind filling with more memories.

They were food-related, to start with. Legion rations were legendary for their dullness, so Legionnaires made a point of indulging in whatever cuisine was local on their missions - all the more so for those Splices like himself whose DNA couldn't tolerate alcohol. Post-victory dinners at the finest restaurants that would accept a rowdy bunch of soldiers; half a leave period burned up in the quest for every conceivable local version of a sandwich; hours spent among street vendors, sampling items that would have sent the medics into fits. Buying fruits not even the scanners could identify; hoarding sweets from a dozen planets, to be savored through the long dull watches of guard duty.

And then there was Jupiter, introducing him to various Earth foods, from her home city's specialties to delicacies from other continents. She'd been astonished at Caine's instant addiction to hot peppers, and Stinger had choked with amusement at her expression. _Come on, Majesty, Splice pain tolerance laughs at those things!_

The mouth-filling, mouth-chilling satisfaction of ice cream, a food unique to Earth; the crisp crunchiness of the stringy vegetable Jupiter called _celery_ , which she ate with peanut butter but that Caine preferred plain; Stinger's endless honey; the sting and sour-sweet of an orange; the rich complexity of the stew Jupiter brought from her home, thick with meat and the fluffy starchiness of dumplings.

And the many delicacies she'd discovered since, from orolans eaten whole to smoke-jellies imported from the Triangulum, glowing flowers that tasted of light, the snapbread sticks she liked to nibble on while she was working at her desk. The memories all centered around Jupiter, eventually - usually with her lifting something to Caine's lips, saying _you have to try this, it's amazing_ , and he would have swallowed dirt to make her smile.

 _Everything_ centered around her, in the end. He'd found what he'd needed, just as Stinger had said, and his life had blossomed far beyond anything he'd dreamed was possible. Jupiter filled his senses and his heart, and nothing was going to stop him from returning to her.

It was just that simple.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've altered one small part of the previous chapter, but just to change tenses. Many, many thanks to [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill) for looking this over for me!

The light never shut off, so Caine paced until his head ached with the need for sleep, then lay down with his arm over his eyes. He couldn't remember his dreams when he woke, but there was a fresh set of clothing and another food packet waiting.

He ran through his usual exercises - those he could do in such bare and limited space, anyway - and washed at the sink before pulling on the new tunic and trousers. Caine knew he was being monitored, but he'd spent more of his life with a camera on him than otherwise and it simply wasn't a factor.

And he ate, because there was no point in going hungry, and he would need to be strong no matter what came.

When the door slid open again, what was probably a couple of hours later, it revealed another three guards - not Thalassa's personal lycantants, but Splices obviously bred for speed and strength. A couple of techs were behind, one looking bored and one slightly apprehensive.

Caine stood still, hands relaxed at his sides, as the guards moved into the chamber and trained their stun pistols on him. The techs came after, the nervous one shooting twitchy glances at the guards, and Caine suppressed the urge to smile with all his teeth; the man knew that if Caine tried anything, the guards would stun _all_ of them if their line of sight wasn't clear.

But he had no intention of doing anything. He held still and let them run scanners over his skin, wondering briefly if the healed cut on his arm would show up somehow. The bored one took a few strands of hair and a swab of Caine's cheek; the nervous one had been saddled with the tissue sampling, and Caine felt petty enough to stare coldly at him for a moment before extending his arm. Just because he was cooperating didn't mean he was _harmless_.

Like his knife cut, the tissue punch only stung a little. The tech, who had managed to stop his hands from shaking, sprayed the small wound with ReCell, and it closed up in seconds. Caine watched his skin regrow, the nerves beneath soothed and restored, and thought with heavy irony that Thalassa was treating him better now than she had since he'd been old enough to walk. ReCell wasn't an option for misbreds.

They were done soon enough, and he watched them retreat out the door with the guards backing out behind them, and sat back down on his cot with a sigh.

Cooperation was his best strategy. Fighting them would win him only further restriction. His mission was patience, this time, and he was a hunter.

He understood patience.

The hours passed slowly. There was another food packet, then a long period that Caine eventually assumed was night, though the light remained on. He tried to sleep again, but it was hard, with old memories whispering up around him whenever he closed his eyes.

It hadn't been like this, at first; he'd been part of a litter, after all. In the earliest days, those he could only remember as dim sense impressions, they had all been kept together in one bed in the creche, warm soft bodies curled around one another, whining and snapping when the attendants would pull one out for examination.

But that stage hadn't lasted long, and though he'd lived with his siblings in the same room as soon as they could all walk, Caine had found himself pushed to the edge of things. Smaller, weaker, he just couldn't keep _up_. And while a lycantant litter would instinctively pull together to protect each other from outsiders, within the group he quickly became the problem, the burden, the annoying baby.

He hadn't even seen Thalassa during the first three years of his life, though he'd been told that she was present at nearly every decanting, to examine the newborns. But she'd always been there nonetheless, a heavy presence throughout the facility. Everything Caine had learned, everything he'd done was by her plan.

_Your Splicer is your god._

He did remember the first time he saw her.

_It's time for another checkup, part of the routine; Caine follows his littermates and their caretaker into the medical wing, not thinking much about it. The examinations are always the same - visual inspection, heart-breathing-blood scan, puff into the air filter, open wide for the mouth-scope, don't squirm for the tissue sample - and hold your head high, because pain is beneath a lycantant's notice._

_But before the physician even begins, the exam room door slides open again, and Simone Thalassa steps inside. It's reflex, even if it had only been practice before; at the sight of her, Caine and his siblings all drop to their knees, though the doctor and their caretaker merely bow their heads._

_Caine can't help sneaking a peek upward, though, and he knows his littermates are too. Not at Thalassa, but at the two lycantant guards behind her. The guards are what they all hope to be someday; huge and strong and dangerous and_ _**worthy** _ _._

_Thalassa paces slowly down the line of them...and pauses in front of Caine._

_If he was as he should have been, he would have been frightened and thrilled to come to her attention. Instead, he's only_ _**terrified** _ _._

_With his eyes cast down, all Caine can see is Thalassa's shadow, but he can smell her, a powdery sweet scent that dries his throat. She doesn't speak, and a few seconds later she moves away, but he knows. She's noticed him, and she knows he's not right -_

Caine knew now that she'd already been aware of his flaws; she followed the progress of each Splice she bred with close attention, even if she didn't often see them in person. But to the pup he'd been, it had been a loss of hope, that he might go unnoticed until he'd somehow caught up to his siblings.

They'd graduated to a dorm room soon enough; it wasn't until later that he'd been split off from his litter and put into a solo room like the single-bred Splices. It had been _hard_ , being apart, and he knew his siblings had suffered too, but the litter was about to become a pack and he would have lowered its value.

The room had been a lot like the one he was in now, with just the basic amenities, and Caine had known at the time that it was because he wasn't expected to survive the separation.

Sometimes, he was still surprised that he had. He didn't like to remember that time either - the desperate loneliness of solitude, the aching silence that lacked the breath and heartbeat of others, the chilly air that held only his own scent. He'd curled up tight on the cot, clutching the blanket to him because it was the only warm thing in the room, and fought the despair that wanted to swallow him whole.

Somehow, he'd won. He'd shut away the softer parts of him, that craved kindness and closeness and the acknowledgment of a smile, that were hungry for the touch of a sibling or a packmate. He'd forged himself into the perfect fighter, hunter, soldier, hiding anything that could become a chink in that armor. R-2788-B7 walked out of Thalassa's splicing facility, was given the name Caine Wise, and made it his own. And was nothing but that perfect soldier until he'd met Stinger and learned that he could, just possibly, be a friend as well.

But he'd dreamed of nothing more until Jupiter.

Now Caine was back where he'd started, and it seemed a worse cruelty to lose what he'd gained during the last two years. _But it's not lost,_ he told himself firmly. Jupiter would find him. His Queen would not abandon him.

He had only to wait.

* * *

The time fell into a routine. A fresh set of clothing was delivered with a meal, and Caine dubbed it _morning_ ; a little while later another set of techs and guards came to examine his muscle tone, his lung and heart functions, and other physical traits. He allowed each one; for one thing, it filled some time. It wasn't as if anyone had given him something to do, or even read, and he was used to filling his off-time with study if nothing else.

Afternoons brought a different sort of examination. The techs gave way to more senior scientists, and they were more interested in the inside of his head than the rest of him. The first tests were simple; he remembered a few from childhood, absurdly easy now that it was obvious what the answers should be. Caine quickly graduated to more complex questions, but they were still no challenge. The Legion's screening tests were trickier, and he'd had no problem with them.

When the tests were done, there would be another nutrient pack, utterly boring. Caine would eat it quickly and take up pacing, or sit on his cot and wait to become drowsy enough to sleep under the light. When he woke, he would exercise and wash, and it would all begin again.

He didn't see Simone Thalassa. If she was studying him instead of his test results, she was doing it remotely, but he preferred that anyway; the old reflexes were still with him and it was disturbing.

And underneath it all, he was trying very hard not to be afraid.

It was mostly the memories that brought back the fear. Caine had spent so long being afraid as he grew that the very walls of the room seemed to breathe it back at him. The first nights he'd spent alone as a child had nearly overwhelmed him.

But something in him had refused to give in and fade away. He'd set his teeth into life and hung on stubbornly, even though he'd had no good reason to do it. Though it wasn't until he'd walked out of the facility and into the Legion that he'd finally left fear behind completely.

_And then I found it again, in a weedy grainfield on a backwater planet._

Not that he'd realized it at the time. He'd thought it was just anger that someone had stolen Jupiter from him, and anxiety that he might not get a pardon for Stinger after all. He'd only gradually understood that fear for another was _worse_ than fear for one's self.

But he wouldn't give up a single second, because with the fear had come the joy, and Jupiter's love was worth any amount of terror.

Caine shifted on his cot. The scars where his wings had been were neater this time, and well-healed, but they were still a little sensitive. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, summoning up good times to take him out of his cell for a little while.

And there were so many to choose from, now. From the kiss Jupiter had given him when he'd left, all the way back to the first time he'd inhaled her scent - _hers,_ not Seraphi's - and felt it take hold of him, most of them had Jupiter in them too.

There were others, of course. The solid pleasure of his first real meal after leaving the Deadland; seeing Stinger's new wings unfold, and the joy on his face as he sprang into the air; Kiza strong and healthy again; the weight of Caine's restored commission on his uniform tunic.

But Jupiter was at the center of most of them. There were more happy moments than he could count, now, but he remembered every one - every kiss, every touch, every smile, every time his Queen assumed he was her equal, without doubt or equivocation. Every time she made him feel worthwhile, valuable...loved.

Jupiter dressing him up in his best uniform and making him escort her to an Entitled function, serenely ignoring the stares and whispers. Jupiter tackling him, giggling, and Caine letting her shove him down onto the mattress even though he could catch her without even rocking on his feet. Jupiter resting her chin on his chest and asking him to tell her what his prison sentence had been like, but only if he wanted to.

Jupiter waking in his arms, rumpled and warm and sweet. Jupiter tossing him a tongfruit too high just to see him catch it anyway. Jupiter laughing with Stinger and treating _him_ like an equal too.

Introducing him to her family as "my boyfriend". Making up holidays so she could give him presents. Hugging him tightly when he woke up from a nightmare. Making sure he had a lunch break.

Gasping in ecstasy as he pleased her, stunned at his own good fortune.

Sobbing against his shoulder when her new life was too much, and letting him comfort her.

Her face lighting up when she saw him, and sometimes he thought that this alone would be enough to make him hers.

His Queen. His love. His center of gravity.

_Jupiter_.

For a long time he dwelt on those first few days, her evolution from fear to determination to the beginnings of a Queen. He'd _liked_ her, right from the start; maybe because she had no idea what a Splice was or how one should be treated, maybe because _she_ liked _him_ , but it didn't matter. He'd kept himself in check, the whole thing was impossible and she just didn't know it yet, but she kept _trying_. Kept stepping into his space, kept offering herself, kept _being_ herself.

And he'd been lost, long before _he_ knew it.

" _Wait - " And he does, he can't_ _ **not**_ _, even in the middle of a firefight. Her breath is soft on his face, and he expects a request, an order, a protest._

_But her hand is equally soft on his cheek, and then - then -_

_With her kiss, he thinks later, he ceases to be Caine Wise, and becomes someone else, someone better and brighter and more worthy. But just at that moment he is all sensation, lightning running through every cell like an Entitled's recode, nothing existing but Jupiter's mouth on his and her taste exploding through him._

_Then she does it_ _**again** _ _, and all that was empty in him is filling with unfamiliar joy, and that is when he learns one of the most important lessons about her Majesty Queen Jupiter Jones - she has chosen_ _**him** _ _, and there is no point in fighting it any longer._

" _In case we don't get the chance again," she says, and the joy spills over. He has to taste her one more time, because she's_ _ **right**_ _, breathe her in and make sure it's real, and then he has to go -_

Caine smiled.

* * *

It took _days._

Jupiter was ready to scream by the end of the second one, except that would just freak everybody out and she was trying to be a ruler as different from Balem as was humanly possible. Or - generally possible, anyway, she was trying not to be speciesist these days either.

It would have been easier if she'd had someone to talk to, but Kiza was in the middle of exams two galaxies away, Stinger was gone, and Jupiter couldn't quite see herself going home and pouring out her troubles to a mother who still believed that her daughter was acting as a translator for a Russian businesswoman somewhere in Europe.

At least Stinger kept sending her status updates, if annoyingly brief ones. They mostly consisted of _still safe, no news yet_ , but occasionally there was an addendum from Officer Percadium with comments like _half the post is terrified of Commander Apini on sight_ and _how is it that every Legion post smells like old socks_ and _here I thought the_ _ **Aegis**_ _food was bad_ , and Jupiter blessed him through her snickers because she really needed the boost.

But the fact that Stinger couldn't seem to find anything worried her a _lot_. It meant that whatever had happened to Caine wasn't a mistake or a crossed wire or a missing message - it was a deliberate cover-up. Somebody out there really had taken Caine, and was trying to hide it.

The third day, Jupiter sat down at her desk during her lunch break and grabbed one of the catch-all sheaves she used for note-taking, and began compiling a list. She scribbled down names as they came to her, not bothering to rank them just yet; _Titus, he's always in there somewhere, and anyone on the board of Nectar Ltd., and that dumbass Gorg Li Nye ever since I blocked his motion at the last Ways and Means meeting -_

When she finished, it was a screen and a half of names and titles. Jupiter sat back and scrolled up and down them, slightly astonished that she'd managed to make so many enemies in so short a time. "It used to be just the mean girls at school," she murmured, then smirked. _Too bad they can't see me now._

But even when she arranged them in order of likelihood, none of the names jumped out at her as someone who would have kidnapped Caine in order to get to Jupiter. _Either they're not smart enough or not subtle enough. Or they think it would be beneath them to even notice that a Splice exists, let alone that one is important to anybody._

She sighed. The list wouldn't do her any good without a direction to go in, anyway; she needed more information.

Jupiter tossed the sheave aside and closed her eyes, tipping her head back against her chair and trying not to imagine the worst. _It's not like he hasn't been_ _ **through**_ _the worst already, what with the airlock and the prison time and the clipping and practically his whole fucking_ _ **life**_ _._

Except that she knew very well by now that there was plenty of _worst_ that she couldn't even conceive of, in this new wider universe. And being a queen wasn't necessarily a defense against that, even for those she loved the most.

Pressing her palms to her eyelids, Jupiter thought _hard_ even though she didn't believe in psychic phenomena or any such bullshit. _Caine. We're looking for you. Hold on. Hold on…_

Jarvis made the gentle throat-clearing noise it used as an alert. Jupiter almost told it to shut up, but instead she dropped her hands and bit back another sigh. "What is it?"

"Miss Vee is at your door, ma'am. The conference call with HA Holdings' directors begins in fifteen minutes."

Jupiter muttered something that would have earned her a glare from her mother. "Okay. Let her in, and order me up a fresh supply of patience, okay?"

Jarvis' delicately sarcastic murmur of "At once, ma'am," wasn't quite enough to make her smile.

She got on with it. Her duties and chores weren't going to disappear just because she was stressed, so she put a pleasant face on things and deflected inquiries with a casual shrug and a reminder that Caine hadn't known how long his mission would take, because a Queen couldn't show fear in public. Which was a real pisser.

Underneath it all, though, Jupiter felt the anger growing, swelling beneath the fear and the near-panic. It didn't really matter, she realized, _why_ Caine had been taken. What mattered was how far Jupiter was willing to go to get him _back._

And the answer to that was _all the way._

* * *

"What's he like?"

The tech's voice crept through his dreamy consciousness, and it took Caine a little while to make sense of the words. He'd been removed from his cell and sedated for yet another scan - not enough to put him out, just enough to keep him docile during the exam - but he wasn't fighting. Cooperation was still his best strategy.

"No teeth so far," the other tech replied, voice barely carrying over the hum of the big machine. The one handling the scanner was a Splice herself, something herbivorous from - Caine thought - one of the Vesto desert worlds; Thalassa liked to breed her own talent when possible. "Are you sure he's a lycantant?"

The first tech snorted. "Zero Pete said he took out most of two squads of Legionnaires when Madam picked him up, and then burned through anesthesia in half the time he should have. Maybe he's just seen sense."

The scanner clicked, passing over Caine slowly and then returning. He kept his eyes closed.

"He is an odd one," the scanner tech said. "Lycantants aren't supposed to be able to make it on their own."

"Well, look at him." A rustle, as if the first tech had folded their arms. "He's a leucistic runt. Who knows what else is wrong with him?"

"Madam," the scanner tech replied darkly, and sniffed.

Click, hum. Caine drifted.

"He has to be smart," the scanner tech offered after a while. "To have made it this far."

"Dunno about that." A rude chuckle. "He actually thinks the Abrasax queen will bother to look for him."

"She might. She's weird even for Entitled. You should hear some of the stories." A beep, a deeper hum.

"She can if she wants to. But Zero told me that Madam paid off the Legion when she bought him back, to keep the deal private. Something about not wanting Entitled messing in her business."

Hum. Click.

The words filtered slowly through the haze. Caine felt as though he saw them, hanging in the darkness behind his closed lids. They burned.

_He_ burned.

_She won't be able to find me._

All his assurance was gone. If Thalassa had bribed Atadie, then there would be no record of what had happened to Caine, and no trail for Jupiter to follow.

He was on his own.

The sedative still controlled his muscles and his heartrate. But deep below the drug, a rage was building that Caine knew would engulf him entirely, and welcome. With it came determination.

He'd been on his own most of his life - without a pack, a family, even a friend until he'd met Stinger. But unlike then, now he had a goal: to get back to his friends. His family.

His one-person pack.

_Jupiter can't get to me._

_So I'll have to get to her._

Dulled by the drug, his hands curled slowly into fists.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *salutes [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill)*

The sedative took a while to wear off. Caine forced himself to his feet and paced around his cell, feeling the fog recede, trying to keep his expression as blank and bored as usual.

_I need to break out._

The simplest option was to try to bribe someone to send a message to Jupiter or any of her people, but he had nothing to offer in exchange, and all the equipment in the facility was gene-locked - he'd need an employee's living tissue to make a call himself, and that option was hopelessly complicated. No, the only way was to escape.

Caine had one advantage. He'd been raised in Thalassa's facility, and while there were sections where unsold Splices didn't go, _everyone_ got full fire-drill and evacuation training, and that included floor plans. He knew approximately where he was, and had a good idea of how to get out of the building and then the complex. Unfortunately, outside - where he stood a fair chance of at least evading pursuit - was a long way off.

 _And assuming I can get out of the complex, I'll have to steal a vehicle and get off-planet as fast as possible._ Neither simple nor easy.

It didn't bother him, though. Caine had faced worse odds and survived, and besides, it was the only option. He had to get back to Jupiter, that was all there was to it.

He had to wait until the next day. The techs who came into his room wanted a blood sample this time, and Caine behaved exactly as he had before - sitting docilely on his cot and allowing them to do whatever they wanted. There were always two techs, but since he'd shown no signs of rebellion they'd reduced the guard to only one - some kind of predator Splice, this time, but one who was no bigger than Caine.

Caine sat, and held out his arm obediently, and lidded his eyes as if bored or sleepy, not reacting to the techs debating the merits of a new model of ground car.

So when they started packing up, and he picked the nearest tech up and threw him at the guard by the door, they were _all_ surprised.

Caine leaped past the tangle of cursing bodies and turned right out of the door, managing to smack the latch panel as he passed. The noise cut off abruptly as the door slid shut, and Caine slowed slightly when the corridor proved to be empty - he had no time to waste, but running at his top speed would only attract attention.

His tunic and trousers were standard-issue for Thalassa's product-Splices, so Caine straightened his top and tried to look as if he'd been sent on an urgent errand. _If I can just get to one of the ventilation grilles -_ 'Bots could track him in there, but first they would have to figure out where he'd gone.

Caine rounded the first corner he came to, trying to remember where along the cross-corridor the shafts were situated, and halted in his tracks. The scent hit his nose at the same time that dark eyes fixed on him, and Caine's Legionnaire training supplied an oath that would blister starsteel, because the Splice not two meters away was the same member of Thalassa's personal squad who'd accompanied Thalassa on her visit - and she recognized him.

The fight was, Caine thought later, longer than the guard expected it to be, but still short and hopeless. He'd taught himself to handle larger opponents singly or in multiples, but when one outraged shout could summon three more of the lycantant's pack and any number of smaller guards panting on their heels, it was inevitable that he would end up pinned to the floor with a very large boot planted on his spine and both arms wrenched behind him.

But as he was frog-marched back to his cell, mouth bleeding from a punch and various other bruises making themselves felt, Caine wanted to smile. _We're just getting started._ Every attempt he made would yield information, and every opening of his cell door would be an opportunity.

They put him in restraints, this time, so one of the techs could treat his injuries. Caine paid no mind to the man's irritated roughness. If Thalassa wanted him in good shape, she couldn't keep him restrained forever. In a sense, time was on his side.

 _Jupiter. I_ _**will** _ _get back to you._

* * *

 _I can't stand this any more_.

Jupiter looked around at the crowd of people in her outer office - secretaries, assistants, petitioners, two nobles Kalique claimed were some kind of distant cousins, and the android waiting patiently to scan Jupiter for a new kind of outfit - and felt her patience vanish with a silent _pop_.

 _Nope. I am_ _**done** _ _._

Pointing one finger at Miss Vee, Jupiter beckoned her over. The woman had the intricate brown patterning of a peahen and an iridescent collar of blue feathers, and a mind like organized flypaper; Jupiter treasured her.

The secretary bobbed her head as she neared, having learned early on that her new employer didn't care for elaborate obeisances. "Your Majesty?"

"I'm about to play hooky, and I need you to run interference," Jupiter told her in a low voice.

Miss Vee didn't blink at the first half of Jupiter's sentence. "Of course."

Jupiter nodded, and leaned back to let out a sharp whistle. The murmur of voices ceased, and everyone looked at her.

She'd learned to not let it make her self-conscious. "Okay, people. As of right now, we are _closed_. Please see Miss Vee about rescheduling any appointments."

Jupiter turned on her heel and strode out of the room, heading for her private quarters, and because she was a queen, the only people who followed were the two members of her royal guard who were on-shift. She could hear rising voices in the office, but as of right then they were Vee's problem, and Jupiter refused to feel guilty about it. _It's what I pay her for - and anyway, she loves handling this kind of thing._

Sometimes Jupiter suspected that Vee found her a bit dull after Balem.

One of the nicest things about her alcazar was that the security level meant that she could leave the guards at the gate to her quarters - an extra bit of privacy she and Caine both treasured. There were guard 'bots on the porch at all times, but they were tools shaped like humans, without actual consciousness, so they didn't count. Jupiter walked past them and into the low-roofed building, and let out a long breath as the door slid shut behind her. "Jarvis, lock it. I don't want to be disturbed unless it's an emergency."

"At once, your Majesty," the chamber presence said. Jupiter sighed again, kicking off her shoes and shedding the long, heavily embroidered sleeveless coat she'd put on that morning as a sign she was working. It was a compromise between the elaborate outfits most Entitled wore, and her impatience with the same—much easier to move in, but still royal. She draped it over the nearest chair, then went over to lean her arms on the windowsill and look at the scenery.

The lake was one of her favorite places. It was a true lake, not an inland sea like Lake Michigan, and it looked enough like Earth to give Jupiter a slight feeling of nostalgia even though she'd never actually been to a similar place on her home world. No one was allowed on its shores without her permission, and she'd purchased a couple of boats so she could go out on the water, despite how nervous it made Stinger and the rest of her security team.

Occasionally she even went swimming, though Caine always insisted on hovering overhead in case she suddenly started drowning. He'd never learned to like swimming himself, though he could pilot a boat as well as she could -

Jupiter's heart ached in her chest as she remembered him, a sun-silhouetted shadow overhead keeping just out of splashing range, the worried glare more felt than seen. _Where are you?_

She was almost to the point of starting a widespread search - official or anonymous, it didn't matter, she had enough money to fund a thousand hunters - but she had to talk to Stinger about it first. _For one thing, I don't know where to even start._

Restless, Jupiter pushed away from the window and wandered through the suite. It had everything she might need for a day or two of isolation, if she wanted - bedroom and bathing facilities, lounge and office, even a tiny kitchenette, though her staff got antsy when she made her own sandwiches.

And because she'd insisted that it was _their_ quarters, all around her were reminders of Caine.

He was militarily neat, but his clothes were in one of the closets and his feather-grooming set in the bathing room; one of the pillows on the bed was his and a couple of his sheaves were stacked on an end table in the lounge.

But right now, it wasn't enough. Jupiter sat for a moment on the bed and rubbed the pillow against her face, but the linens had been changed since he'd left and it only smelled clean.

Fretful, she tossed the pillow down. _There's one more place._

The little space off the bedroom had been intended as a servant's room, but Jupiter had repurposed it when they'd moved in. _You need a space all your own,_ she'd told Caine, and would have given him an entire suite if he'd wanted, but the single room was all he would accept and as far away from her as he was willing to go.

Jupiter usually stayed out of the room despite his assurance that she was welcome. _He's had so little all his life, he should at least have some privacy._

But right then, _she_ needed more.

Jupiter stood in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. The room was barely large enough for Caine to unfold his wings, and had a narrow desk and stool, a low set of shelves, and a larger cushioned chair with the cutout back that Skyjackers preferred. The one window was semi-opaqued at the moment, letting in light but offering no view, and while the air system kept it from getting stuffy or dusty, the space still felt quiet, as if it were missing him too.

Jupiter stood in the center of the room and inhaled deeply. The scent of him had faded, but she could still catch traces of musk and the metallic dust of his wings, and they made her eyes sting. She'd become much more aware of scents since Caine had come into her life, and while her nose was orders of magnitude less sensitive than his, she still tried to notice and remember.

Sighing, she sat down on the stool, which was little more than a seat that used a hoverbeam to float in midair. It automatically adjusted itself to her height, and idly Jupiter made it spin slowly like a piano stool, watching the room rotate past. She put out a foot to stop it when the book on the desk caught her eye.

It was an actual paper book, not a sheave, cloth-bound and open. Jupiter blinked at it; books weren't unknown in the Gyre, but they were usually antiques. Curious, she picked it up.

It was a blank book, the kind sold on Earth for writing in, and as she lifted it a pen rolled out from underneath. _Huh. I didn't know Caine used anything besides sheaves._

He had tidy handwriting, too. Jupiter's eyes skimmed down the first few lines and -

_I could never have imagined this. Her beauty, her favor, her determination are all impossible, beyond any conceiving of mine._

_And yet, they're real._ _She_ _is real. My Queen,_   _ ~~my J~~  _ _my_ _Jupiter, real and glorious beyond the dreams of any Splice. She looks at me and smiles, and turns the universe upside down to keep me by her side._

_Without her, I was empty and alone, a tool with no calling, a discarded failure. With her I am whole and healed, filled up with life and wonder and l_

_I would worship at her feet if she'd allow it. Instead she heaps honors on me. How is it possible to feel such joy, and not die of it?_

The small part of Jupiter's brain that could still think rationally pointed out that this was _definitely_ a violation of Caine's privacy. The rest of her was lost in his words, stunned and humbled and aching.

Ignoring her conscience, Jupiter thumbed back through the half-filled book. It was more of the same, all of it, pages and pages, and Jupiter could hardly breathe as she read scattered sentences.

 _Today she snubbed a visitor for treating me as a servant. No one else in the 'verse would do such a thing - would_ _want_ _to._

_Her scent...it's everything. Home, safety, peace and siren call. Take me away from her and I will quarter the universe to fill my lungs with it once more._

_Jupiter, Jupiter. That is the name that breaks from my lips when she fells me, and all she does is smile in delight. I don't deserve this, and it's mine anyway._

_She is my Queen and all the light I need -_

She had to swallow again and again, Caine's absence so palpable that it hurt.

 _I didn't know...I mean, I knew, but I didn't_ _**realize** _ _…_

When she closed the book, she did so gently, and sat for a long time in the silent room.

* * *

The next opportunity came sooner than Caine was expecting; two guards, both lycantants but not Thalassa's personal guard, come to remove his restraints.

It wasn't chains; Caine had been webbed to the cot, a soft binding more often used on hysterical or frightened patients than prisoners considered a threat. Caine lay still and let one guard peel it away while the other kept her sidearm pointed at Caine's head; ReCell notwithstanding, he was stiff after the fight. The guards smelled more cautious than alarmed, anyway.

They were both half again his size, dark of skin and hair and eyes, and they moved with the reflexive coordination of pack siblings, a constant awareness of one another's location.

Once, he would have envied them bitterly. Now...now he still wondered what that was like, to be a part of something so interconnected, but if he were to be offered rebirth as a proper lycantant, Caine knew he would refuse.

The guard bundled up the web, stepping back warily, and Caine sat up, holding his head as if dizzy with the change in position. The guard snorted, a deep sound of contempt, and headed for the door.

Caine kept his head down as the first guard exited. The second gave him one last wary glance and lowered her sidearm, then turned to exit.

As she stepped through, Caine leapt off the cot, slamming into the woman's huge shoulders and using them as a springboard to hurl himself past the other guard and down the corridor. He'd timed it precisely - the woman was blocked by her sibling, whose hands were full with the webbing - but Caine still only got twenty meters away before the stun beam caught him in the spine, and in a wash of sparkling pain he was gone again.

He woke back in the room, on his cot. This time Caine held very still for a while - stun hangover was _epic_ \- but was pleased to note that there were no restraints at all this time.

_Slow learners._

He kept his eyes closed, and planned his next attempt.

* * *

The fifth try brought Caine a visitor.

It had been six guards to escort him, this time, since he'd made it down two floors and almost managed to wrestle a weapon away from a furious avian Splice, and when they shoved him back into his cell they didn't remove the wrist-binders. Caine licked at a fresh cut on his lip and wished he could rub his bruised ear, but such minor considerations vanished when the door slid open to reveal Thalassa and her guards.

The reflex was still with him; Caine still slid to his knees and bent his head. But that bright-burning rage was eating away at the submission and fear, and he kept his face carefully blank.

The four guards who'd come with her spread out through the room, all of their weapons trained on Caine, and none of them were stun pistols. Caine didn't spare them a glance. Thalassa's scent was irritated, and she looked down at him with the air of someone confronted with a mess on a new carpet.

Caine waited.

"You seem to have a problem, B7," Thalassa said softly at last, and before that chilly tone would have had him or any other of her Splices rigid with fear. "You seem to have forgotten why you are here."

Since he hadn't been given permission, Caine didn't speak.

Thalassa tapped the fingers of one hand against her thigh. "Since you need reminding, I will do so. I bought you back, B7. I need more information than your records can supply, and you are not making the task easier with these constant, futile, attempts to escape."

Caine kept his breathing steady, and didn't let himself cringe. A small part of him wondered if any of Thalassa's Splices had defied her as much as he had.

_Unlikely. She would have culled anyone so unmanageable._

Thalassa bent to grip his hair again, pulling his head up so she could see his face. The yank was painful, but Caine kept his face still, torn between a surge of terror and the urge to snarl. The wave of her scent was nauseating.

"I know you're not stupid," she said, almost in his ear. "Remember. You belong to me."

She straightened, releasing him, and Caine sucked in air. Thalassa turned away, and he forced the words out, knowing they would do no good but compelled all the same. "I belong to _her_."

Thalassa halted, shoulders stiffening. "Zag," she said.

The guard to Caine's left pulled a wand from his belt and snapped it out to three times its original length, and Caine locked his muscles, knowing what was coming. It did him no good at all when the wand touched his shoulder.

Splices intended for combat had much higher pain tolerances than pure humans, making them difficult to control through aversion; enough pain to subdue a lycantant, for instance, was more than enough to cause serious damage. So alternatives were developed.

The plasma charge ripped through Caine like lightning, searing every nerve and making him feel as if each cell were exploding. He collapsed to the floor, writhing, arms jerking at the binders; Zag kept the wand pressed to his arm for almost five seconds, and Caine nearly passed out before the lycantant finally lifted it.

The sensations ceased at once, but his muscles still spasmed uncontrollably, and it was all Caine could do to make his diaphragm work; he'd come perilously close to vomiting.

"You belong to _me,_ " Thalassa repeated, cold and calm; she hadn't even turned to watch.

Caine heard them leave, though it was long minutes before he could slow his gasps or focus his eyes. He still lay on his side on the floor, skin slick with sweat; his wrists and shoulders ached sharply, since no one had bothered to remove the binders.

But as his heartrate slowed and his breathing steadied, Caine bared his teeth at the woman no longer there, and then let his lips form one word.

_Hers._

* * *

Every escape attempt, after that, brought a session with the plasma wand. Caine endured each one, even when they made him howl, even when he lost his grip on consciousness. _She can't keep this up forever._ Thalassa still wanted him in good health, and repeated use of the wand would eventually damage his nervous system.

He lost track of time completely; everything narrowed down to the next chance, the next opportunity. Sometimes he would try even when there _was_ no chance, just in case he'd misjudged something.

But he still hadn't managed to get any further than the ground floor by the time an entire squad came for him.

They chained his wrists and ankles to a collar around his neck, and even clamped a muzzle on his jaw. The last time _that_ had happened was directly after he'd snapped, before - but Caine didn't want to think about that, so he pushed the blurry memory aside.

They led him to a laboratory he hadn't seen before, one with an unpleasant-looking examination chair in the center, and strapped him into it, though the muzzle remained.

Rather to Caine's surprise, Thalassa entered just as they finished tightening the restraints. Caine watched her approach, unable to move since they'd even strapped his head in place. Something was different -

\- _I can't smell her._ The muzzle blocked scent from reaching his nose. Caine wasn't sure if it was that lack, or the glowing rage inside him, but the fear he always felt on seeing her was less.

She didn't speak to him, instead directing the techs who gathered around the chair and the bulky machine behind it. The guards withdrew to stand against the walls, and Caine listened to the techs mutter to one another as they did things he couldn't see.

"You do understand, madam," one said at last, "that what you requested is not actually possible without causing gross damage."

"It's the effect I'm after," Thalassa replied. "How you achieve it doesn't matter, so long as there's no major injury."

"Very well, we'll proceed with the manipulation."

Caine stiffened; this didn't sound like another test.

"Precision, please, Mr. Jonas. I want as little loss as possible." Thalassa gestured, and one of the techs brought her a stool to settle upon.

More noises, and then Caine's vision washed blue as a scan-field formed around his head. The wall opposite lit up with an oversized image, and it took him a second to realize it was his own brain, a real-time view from the field.

 _They want to do something to my_ _ **head**_ _?_ The realization brought a surge of alarm and adrenaline, and he could actually _see_ the change before his eyes. It was bizarrely fascinating, but Caine had no time for it. He pulled against the restraints, a steady pressure, trying to gauge their strength.

They didn't budge.

He pulled harder, then yanked. Something crackled, and one of the techs cursed. "Madam, he's - "

"I see that," Thalassa said, calm and cold. "Proceed. _Now._ "

The image on the screen shrank and slid, a new one appearing next to it, and that caught Caine's attention despite his efforts and his growing panic, because it was _Jupiter._ Her chin was raised and her expression was closed, and her hair was bound in jewels and silver; it was one of the public images, a young Queen confident in her power, and his heart reached out to it even as he yanked again. He felt his skin starting to split as he pulled, and Caine bared his teeth behind the muzzle and increased the pressure - blood was slippery, it would help -

The one image was replaced by a cascade of many, Jupiter in different poses and outfits - some official, some clearly not. Each only flickered on the screen for a second or less, then slowed to an old shot of her in her Aegis outfit, Orus in the background.

"Got it," the tech said, just as Caine heard the chair groan under the pressure of his pull.

And then some power gripped his skull and _held_ , and an odd buzzing blankness filled his eyes and ears, drowning him in nothingness.

* * *

Caine woke on a cot in a small room, half hospital, half cell. He knew exactly where he was, though not why his bones seemed to ache slightly, a ghost of pain. It vanished when he sat up, however, and he stood, stretching kinked muscles and rolling his head on his neck.

 _I smell_. He wrinkled his nose with distaste; he _stank_ , in fact, as if he'd been through a workout and not bothered to bathe afterwards. It was very unlike him, and Caine immediately went to the clothing slot. Fortunately, a fresh tunic and trousers were waiting.

He bathed at the sink, quickly and neatly, and dressed in the clean outfit, stuffing the old into the disposal slot and then returning to his cot. Almost before he'd sat down, the door slid open.

Two huge lycantant guards preceded Simone Thalassa into the room, and at the sight and scent of her Caine slid automatically to his knees, bowing his head in the old dread and respect. He could just see the tips of her toes when she stopped.

"Do you know why you're here, R-2788-B7? Look at me."

Caine lifted his head. "No, madam."

Her lenses flickered. "I purchased your contract back from the Legion in order to study you."

She seemed to want some kind of response, so Caine spoke. "Study me, madam?"

"You're a conundrum, B7. A misbred error who has nevertheless succeeded far beyond the parameters of any packless lycantant."

The words cut deep, because he was a _failure_ now, an egregious one. Caine felt his fingers dig into his thighs, but the pressure was distant.

Thalassa bent just slightly, as if to see him more closely. "I have your geneprint and your coding data, but they only tell me so much. And they do not account for your accomplishments. You have succeeded time after time, when all your flaws should have made you fail. I need to know why."

Caine forced his hands to relax. "Yes, madam."

Thalassa nodded. "Your new duties are simple, B7. You are to cooperate with my technicians in every way."

Caine bowed his head again. "Of course." The admonition was unnecessary. He always did his duty.

"To whom do you belong?"

It was a strange question with an obvious answer, but Caine replied obediently.  "To you, madam."

Her powdery scent deepened with satisfaction, and Caine felt his dread recede a fraction. He'd pleased her; that was good.

Then her footsteps tapped out the door, and he was alone.

Caine pushed to his feet and resumed his seat on the cot. His memory of the last few days was blurry, but he did remember a squad coming to retrieve him from the Deadland. Well, he'd been most of the way to starving by then; it wasn't surprising that the abrupt change had fuzzed his brain a little. Clearly Thalassa's people had fixed him up in the interval.

He remembered her, and what it was like growing up in Thalassa's facility. The odds of him surviving her study of him were low. She would pull him apart, strand by strand, to find all the information she could.

It didn't matter.

The calmness within him wasn't despair; it was the simple acknowledgment of an end. _I lasted longer than anyone thought I could, but I was never supposed to survive._ And after the debacle of his attack on an Entitled, this was a better death than he could reasonably expect; certainly better than getting his throat cut in the Deadland. Perhaps his Splicer could find something in his misaligned genes that would prevent another lycantant from suffering his fate.

Thalassa held his contract; his loyalty was hers once more. That was the reality for Splices, and Caine's one point of pride.

_Obedience is a Splice's first duty._

He would do his duty. Always.

Caine stretched out on the cot, and closed his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill) kept me going; any errors are mine alone! 
> 
> Jupiter's dress is based on [this one](http://knitmeapony.tumblr.com/post/125768638629/fashion-runways-robert-abi-nader-couture), but with a different color scheme (and a little more bodice). Think monarch butterfly.

Someone was talking to her. Jupiter pulled consciousness together and rolled over, not quite managing to open her eyes. "Hmmp?"

"Ma'am, Commander Apini is calling," Jarvis said patiently.

" _Oh."_ Jupiter sat up, blinking at the darkened bedroom. "Lights on dim, would you, and put him through here?"

The room brightened slowly, and the comm console against one wall flickered to life. Jupiter made sure her sleepshirt was covering her and pushed her hair out of her face.

"Majesty, I've got something." Stinger's image was a little hazy, though Jupiter wasn't sure if it was transmission artifact or her sleepiness, but still she could see the excitement on his face.

Jupiter smiled, scrubbing at her eyes and feeling hope leap up for the first time in far too long. "What is it?"

"Just a scrap," Stinger said, though his gaze was lit. "There's still no record of what happened to Caine, but Phylo overheard a medtech in the cafeteria talking about having to treat nearly a dozen soldiers for injuries after a fight. But there's no record of any such fight, or anyone getting disciplined for it."

"You think they were fighting Caine?" Jupiter snapped her fingers, and her little round serv-bot floated over with a carafe and a glass. She poured herself some water, trying to wash away fatigue.

"The timing fits. Phylo did a little asking around, and while nobody would come out and admit why, it seems that a soldier went berserk and had to be subdued. And nobody's seen him since."

Stinger shrugged. "Plus, a dozen's a bit much for a simple brawl. You know Caine, Majesty; if someone tried to take him away from you, then they're lucky they weren't cleaning up corpses."

"That means that General Atadie definitely knows something," Jupiter said, mind turning over the possibilities.

"Exactly - either he's behind it, or he covered it up after the fact. The trouble is - " Stinger deflated slightly. " - we can't get any further. I've gone through all the records that aren't sealed, and short of interrogating the medtechs, we're out of options. I've got no leverage on Atadie."

Jupiter felt a smile turning up her lips, and knew it was dangerous. " _I_ do."

* * *

The visit of her Highness Queen Jupiter Jones of the House of Abrasax to Legion Outpost 17-8387-129 was a day of note. Entitled were known to occasionally make visits of state, but usually if they wanted to see someone they merely issued a summons. They did not sweep into a station in dazzling regalia, escorted by a half-dozen winged royal guards and a small host of other protectors.

Nor did they come unannounced. When her clipper, the _Lake Michigan_ , portaled into local space and its captain, Diomika Tsing, asked for a berth with a briskness that was in no way an actual _request_ , there was a scramble to alert the brass. Literally; General Atadie's personal secretary knocked his own chair into the wall standing up, and almost tripped coming around his desk to tell his boss.

Such was the Queen's efficiency that she was halfway to Atadie's office before he had straightened his uniform collar and combed his hair. He hurried to meet her, putting on his best military face and cursing the curious who lined the corridors to watch.

"Your Majesty, this is a surprise," he said, bowing slightly as she approached. Her guards eyed him without favor, but his attention was locked on the Queen.

She was shorter than the other Abrasaxes, bright of eye and dark of hair, but her palpable _presence_ did not allow him to see her as delicate. The blinding white outfit she wore only enhanced the impression; she stood out against her guards' livery and the surrounding soldiers like a star in a night sky. "General Atadie," she said, smiling at him genially. "Just the man I've come to see."

He swallowed hard. "Welcome to my command, your Majesty. Perhaps we can talk in my office?"

Her smile widened. "Perfect."

Three of the guards went in with her, though no doubt it was crowded with all those half-furled wings. The door slid shut.

Precisely eight minutes later, it opened again, and her Majesty emerged with her escort. "I'm so glad we could have this talk, General," she said over her shoulder, and her smile was as sharp as ice. "No need to see me out."

Many eyes watched her go, as confident and brisk as when she arrived. A few saw a Legionnaire and someone in civvies hurry onto the Queen's shuttle before she got back to it.

None saw Atadie's secretary poke a cautious head into the general's office, duck, and retreat, closing the door firmly once more.

It stayed closed a long, long time.

* * *

It had been impressed on her that Queens did not run, but Jupiter still made excellent time from the shuttle dock to the _Lake Michigan's_ bridge, shucking off her glittery jacket en route and passing it to the nearest attendant. "Captain Tsing," she called as soon as she saw the woman. "Set a portal for Orus, and then join me in the briefing room when we're through. Oh, and get me a clear line to home as soon as possible."

"At once, your Majesty," Tsing said crisply. Jupiter looked around at the crowd - the bridge was twice the size of an Aegis cruiser's - and Stinger immediately moved forward.

"Oh _good._ " She gave him a fervent hug. "You two okay?"

"We're fine, your Majesty." Stinger returned it, then stepped back to jerk a thumb at Percadium. "It's not like this was a firefight."

"Your Majesty." Percadium's bow was more personality than protocol. "What did you find out?"

"I'll tell you in a sec." She strode towards the small room behind the bridge, rage and delight mixing in her chest. "Come on."

The briefing room reminded Jupiter of _Star Trek_ even though the chairs and table all floated on hoverbeams. As she took her seat at the head of the table, the portal generator hummed its rising note, and they all braced as the _Lake Michigan_ passed through. Jupiter swallowed against the brief nausea.

The empty air above the table flickered and then produced a three-dimensional image of her majordomo, an ethereal Splice whose cheeks and hands glittered with translucent scales. He bowed when he saw her, and Jupiter waved back and then pointed her companions to chairs. "Hey, Orchris. We're gonna have a council of war."

"Literally?" the majordomo asked with no trace of irony. "Gathering troops will require time, your Majesty."

Jupiter pursed her lips as Captain Tsing came in. "I hope not. Have a seat, Captain."

"You know where Caine is," Stinger said, face brightening.

"I _probably_ know," Jupiter corrected, but the knowledge was singing through her and it was hard to be calm. Her heart ran fast, and she reminded herself that she _had_ to think clearly right then. _Going in guns blazing will just get Caine killed._

Tsing folded her hands on the table. "What can we do, your Majesty?"

"Let's find out." She grimaced. "Where are we?"

Tsing gave the impression of rolling her eyes without actually doing so. She had accepted with alacrity when Jupiter had offered to hire her away from the Aegis, and Jupiter had promptly given her a larger ship to command; Jupiter counted it good fortune that most of Tsing's crew had chosen to come with her. "It's Orus, your Majesty. We're in line."

Jupiter had to snicker, and Tsing's lips curled the slightest bit. "I can pull rank - "

"No." Jupiter sat forward, pressing her palms on the table. "No, not yet. We need the time. All right, here's what I found. Caine's Splicer decided to buy his contract back from the Legion, apparently to figure out why he survived, well, everything."

" _Beeswax."_ Stinger went pale. "Oh, Majesty, that's not good."

"Yeah, no kidding, but tell me _why_." Stinger had spoken almost fondly of his own Splicer, but Jupiter had been inclined to hate Caine's from the start, just from what little she'd learned the first few days she'd known him. And his childhood was a topic he refused to discuss. "What's this Simone Thalassa like?"

Stinger shrugged uncomfortably. "Brilliant. Very efficient. Very _rich_. She's made a name for herself with lycantants and other combat breeds, and she's shown true genius in some of her work." He rubbed a hand over his face. "She's powerful enough to do pretty much as she pleases."

A ball of cold was growing in Jupiter's gut. "What's she going to do with Caine?"

Stinger shook his head. "His only value to her will be the information she can get out of him. She'll run tests until she has nothing left to run them on."

The cold combined with the rage, tingling out to Jupiter's fingertips, and she recognized it as her most dangerous mood. "She's basically going to _vivisect_ him?"

Stinger nodded reluctantly. The fact that none of the four of them looked _surprised_ only added to Jupiter's anger.

"Not going to happen," she said firmly. "We're going to get him back."

"Buy his contract back, you mean?" Captain Tsing said. "Will that work?"

Stinger made a doubtful sound. "Not sure it will. Once Simone Thalassa gets her teeth in an idea, she doesn't give up."

Jupiter bit her lip, thinking. "It's the most straightforward method. Orchris, get my lawyers in on this - is there any kind of legal loophole we can exploit?"

"It's unlikely, your Majesty," Percadium said as Orchris nodded. "The only shady part of the deal was concealing it, and that falls on General Atadie's head. The _Legion_ could make a case against her, but - "

"Right," Jupiter sighed. "Stinger, do you have any idea how she feels about Entitled?"

"Gossip says she sees herself as nearly equal," Stinger said. "She's powerful enough that she won't easily be intimidated, at least."

"Mm." Jupiter caught her majordomo's attention. "I want to know everything you can find on this woman and her operation. As fast as possible, Orchris - like, two hours."

"Of course." The majordomo acted as if it were routine, and Jupiter blessed whatever fates had given her personnel that _didn't panic_.

"Good, thank you. While we wait for that, guys, I'm going to brainstorm, and if you can think of anything, I'll be glad to hear it." Jupiter rose as they all nodded, and took herself to the far end of the room.

She tapped on the wall until it gave her a picture of the exterior, then adjusted it so it was showing a view that didn't include Orus and its bewildering array of satellites and ships. The sky was still crowded, but at least Jupiter could see the stars.

Behind her she heard the faint murmur of Orchris talking to someone back at her alcazar, and Stinger and Tsing arguing in low tones, but she concentrated on those distant lights, struggling to master the emotions that had been running high ever since Stinger's call. They knew where Caine _was_ , now, at least the general area, and that he was _probably_ all right, which was more than they had before - but Jupiter still wanted to scream and rage and throw things. She wanted to _cry,_ to bury her face in her arms again, but more than that she wanted to bury her face in Caine's neck and feel him hold her while she wept.

She wanted his skin against her lips, his wingfeathers soft under her palms, his small shy grin flashing out, his long body at ease in their bed. She wanted him yielding to her kiss, lifting her off her feet, debating ethics and legislation, sparring with Stinger. Playing zapball with the Royal Guard off-duty. Teasing Kiza into wild giggles.

She wanted _him_. Always and forever.

_Focus. It's your turn to be the hunter._

Jupiter pictured Caine in her head, deliberately, focusing on the memory of him teaching her tracking. She hadn't the nose for his kind of skill, obviously, but she'd learned the basics, how to spot sign in wilderness or urban jungle or starfield. He was a good teacher, patient but not slack - once he got used to the role-switch, anyway.

And Jupiter had always liked learning new things.

Now she had a direction, a trail to follow, an adversary to fight. And while tactics wasn't her thing, she did have advisors ready and eager to help.

_So start thinking._

Two hours later the data was piling up, everything from the official promotion for Thalassa's business, to information about the planet it was housed on, to a slightly out-of-date security assessment of Thalassa's facilities, and Jupiter wondered idly how much the bribe had been for that last - particularly on short notice.

It was too much, really, a jumble of fact and gossip and rumor, but every bit was potentially valuable and Jupiter absorbed it all as quickly as she could, knowing the others were doing the same. Eventually she shoved back from the table, finishing the tea Tsing had called for and watching the other four read and debate.

_Keep it simple. We're getting Caine back; anything else is unacceptable._

The first, simplest method would be to see this Simone Thalassa in person, and just offer to buy Caine's contract back. The Splicer might be wealthy, but Jupiter knew herself to be richer than just about any other inhabitant of the Gyre. She could afford whatever price Thalassa might dare to ask.

But if the Splicer refused to sell -

One of the less savory things about being an Entitled, Jupiter had learned, was that the rank was in effect above most laws. She could break a dozen of them with no consequences beyond, perhaps, a laughable fine; the Aegis was most interested in dealing with Entitled-on-Entitled offenses and matters concerning ReCell manufacture, not whatever an Entitled cared to inflict on the rest of the universe.

_But even if they were gonna jail me I wouldn't stop._

A small smile curved her lips, and Jupiter knew it wasn't a pleasant one. _Besides, she started it._

A plan was taking shape in her mind, and it felt like a sound one. Jupiter silently blessed the people before her, who would do their loyal best to poke holes in it when she laid it in front of them, because that was exactly what she needed.

She sat forward, and the discussion ceased, all the participants straightening up to attention. "Orchris," Jupiter said, "We're coming home. I'm putting you at Commander Apini's disposal, because we're going to have to move very quickly."

Stinger's slow grin was lit with hope. "You have a plan."

Jupiter returned it, and leaned forward. "Yep. I'm gonna go talk to her."

And the light died. "Majesty...that's probably…"

"Not going to work? Yeah, I figure." Jupiter shrugged. "Which is why we're going to have a Plan B."

Percadium's brows went up. "Always wise," he murmured.

Jupiter rested both elbows on the table. "I don't know how long it'll take before somebody tells Miss Thalassa that I know what she's up to, but I'm betting it won't be long at all. So starting now the clock is ticking. I want her thinking I'm going to try legal channels first - so, Captain, the _Lake Michigan_ is going to _stay_ in line. And Orchris, I'm going to pull a Sabé, so I want you to have Miss Arbo here at Orus as soon as possible."

"At once, your Majesty," the majordomo said, and busied himself with the console again. Out of the corner of her eye Jupiter could see Percadium mouthing _Sabé?_ in confusion.

She ignored it for the moment and turned to Tsing. "I need one of the puddlejumpers made ready immediately; I'm not going to wait for Arbo to get here."

Tsing simply nodded and touched her comm implant, lips moving as she subvocalized orders to her crew. Stinger ran a nervous hand over his scalp.

"Right, you get the jump on preparation, Majesty, but what else do you have in mind?"

Jupiter smiled grimly. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Stinger. I won't ask the Royal Guard to do anything illegal, but I need you to assemble a commando raid team from the rest of Security. Or hire one, if necessary."

Stinger looked scandalized at the implication that his people wouldn't be up for the job. "We can field a team. It'll have to be a big one, though."

Tsing nodded. "Planetary facilities are much harder to secure than space-based, your Majesty, help can arrive much more quickly."

"So we move faster." Stinger grimaced. "Though the minute she turns you down, Majesty, she'll increase her own security - she's not stupid."

"Exactly." Jupiter leaned back in her chair, and let her smile chill further. "So we're not going to give her the chance."

Tsing figured it out first, and grinned, as fierce an expression as Jupiter was feeling just then. "A feint."

"Pretty much." Jupiter shrugged. "If we can distract her long enough…"

"We can pluck the prize from under her nose," Percadium finished with a grin. "I like it, Majesty."

"Good." Jupiter smiled, baring her teeth, and didn't miss the way both men straightened in their seats; Tsing's own grin widened. "So let's plan."

* * *

A day later Jupiter stared into the huge mirrors of her dressing suite, and wasn't entirely sure it was herself looking back. The many reflections looked much more like the images she'd seen of Seraphi - someone regal, haughty, confident, dressed in a gown that seemed made of intricately patterned glass.

_But that's the point, isn't it._

Jupiter's hair was dressed high and fastened with tasselled sticks that repeated the red and black colors of her dress, and her wardrobe servants were assembling an array of bracelets to go with. Jupiter lifted her chin a trifle higher and tried on her best Entitled expression, copied from any number of the idle rich whose houses she used to clean. It wasn't so much pride or disdain as it was a blank refusal to acknowledge lesser beings, and it worked very well when she was stuck in yet another stifling First-Estate party, but Jupiter wasn't sure it was going to suit.

_I don't want to put her back up first thing._ There was still a small chance that Jupiter could in fact talk Thalassa into selling Caine's contract, and even if that failed, she didn't want Thalassa thinking of her as a threat. _No, I'm going to be the empty-headed type who just wants her favorite toy back._

The scenario didn't really fit the public image Jupiter was already projecting, but she'd only been in power for two years, and that was an eyeblink as far as the Gyre's upper-level society was concerned. _Nouveau riche, that's the ticket. The country cousin going overboard with all the shinies._ Kalique's style, turned up to eleven.

Fortunately, queendom meant that Jupiter had a staff at her beck and call, ready to do whatever she asked, and redecorating the reception room on the massive vessel everyone called her _yacht_ wasn't even much of a challenge for them.

Her chief dresser, a deer Splice who might have been related to Titus' majordomo, came forward with a tray of bracelets, also red and black. Jupiter looked them over. "How many?"

The dresser cocked his head and looked her over with a professional eye. "Two on one arm, I think, and one on the other, your Majesty."

"Works for me." She selected three bangles rather than the cuff-style ornaments, and eased them over her hands. "Am I good to go?"

He nodded judiciously, just as Andri, the ship's presence, spoke. "Commander Apini is calling."

"Go ahead," Jupiter said, and spun on her stool to face the comconsole. Stinger's image sprang to life; he was wearing the heavy tunic that was her guards' version of armor, and she could see a couple of other soldiers in the background.

"We're all set, Majesty," he reported. "The strike team waits on your word."

"Good." Jupiter adjusted the bracelets. "Remember, I don't care about property damage, but keep loss of life to an absolute minimum."

Stinger's grimace was shorthand for his objections, but they'd already been over that. Jupiter didn't bother worrying; this was supposed to be a precision strike anyway.

Andri spoke again. "Ma'am, we are entering orbit around Bavar's Coreworld now."

Jupiter raised her brows. "Showtime."

Stinger tossed her a salute, and vanished.

Jupiter rose, silently blessing the galactic technology that had created spike heels that didn't hurt, and shook her draperies into place. "All right. Andri, tell Orchris to make sure Thalassa has all the proper escorts and whatever when she gets here; I'm going to head down to the lounge now."

"Yes, ma'am," the chamber presence replied, and Jupiter nodded at her dresser's bow and headed out the door.

Her honor guard was four soldiers, all the tallest of those working for her, and all looking particularly humorless and intimidating at her request. Jupiter nodded to them as well and headed briskly for the yacht's luxurious reception area, knowing they would fall in behind her in best formal fashion. _Impressive,_ she reminded herself. _We're trying to look impressive here._

It had been a scramble, to get everything accomplished in as short a time as possible. Her professional double Arbo had spent nearly the entire time on Orus arguing with bureaucrats - Entitlement could get one only so far up the chain - but had reported a flat failure; Thalassa's purchase of Caine's contract had indeed been perfectly legal. In fact, it wasn't even that unusual.

But now Jupiter's yacht was orbiting Thalassa's world, while any intelligence the woman had would still place Jupiter on Orus getting negative answers. _Which means, hopefully, that she hasn't bothered to decide what to do when I do show up._

Just at that moment, Jupiter knew, Vee was speaking to Thalassa's people at the splicing facility, telling them that Her Majesty Queen Jupiter was in orbit and expecting to see Miss Simone Thalassa at her earliest convenience. _Which is Entitled-speak for "get your ass up here_ _ **now**_ _._ "

It was a gamble, calculated to play on Thalassa's ego without triggering her pride. Entitled demanded, it was how they operated, but Jupiter choosing to negotiate in person could be seen as a compliment - or even a sign of weakness. And judging from the information she'd been able to scrape together, Thalassa was just cautious enough to comply with Jupiter's request.

_She may not respect Entitled, but she won't risk a blatant insult._

Jupiter settled herself on a long couch in the lounge, trying not to wince at the rococo decorating scheme her people had chosen, and started working her way through a set of sheaves from the Ways and Means committee. Her guards posted themselves around the room and continued to look intimidating, as she'd requested; Jupiter kind of wanted to ask them to sit down, at least until Thalassa was on board, but she knew they wouldn't want to.

Thalassa was not as fast as General Atadie. It was almost an hour before Andri informed Jupiter that the Splicer had arrived.

She nodded at the air and set her sheave aside. "Great. Let Stinger know, and then put up the shields."

"By your command," Andri said, which always made her snort. Jupiter straightened the skirts she'd ruffled while reading, and tried to put herself in the mindset of someone who cared more about what power could give her than what it could do. She could feel her heartbeat running high, and took a slow breath. _Here we go._

Simone Thalassa was shown into the lounge by Miss Vee and a quartet of Jupiter's royal guard, but she was also shadowed by two massive lycantants who looked like they could each take on all the guards and win.

The Splicer herself moved stiffly, obviously annoyed to be summoned, and Jupiter looked at her from under her lashes as Thalassa stepped through the door. Jupiter had seen scans of the woman, but none of them showed her aura of confidence, or the indefinable ageless look of someone who had used ReCell for centuries. The lenses in front of her eyes gave her a mechanical look - vaguely steampunk, to Jupiter's mind.

Entitled did not rise to greet inferiors, but Jupiter put on her sweetest smile and held out a hand. "Miss Thalassa! I'm so glad you could come up and see me."

Thalassa's gaze fixed on Jupiter, or at least her lensed eyes looked in Jupiter's direction, and she bowed her head a fraction as she crossed the space to touch her fingers to Jupiter's. "Your Majesty. It's an honor."

Her voice was flat, almost impatient, but Jupiter didn't let her smile falter. "Please, sit and join me. Miss Vee, refreshments."

The secretary didn't turn a feather at the haughty command, merely gesturing out the open door, and within seconds a pair of servitors brought in drinks and a platter of sweet nibbles. Thalassa took a glass when it was offered, but merely held it, sitting in her chosen chair and crossing her legs. She wore a long tunic over opaque leggings, both made of rich fabrics cut simply; their bronze color matched the Splicer's curly hair. Jupiter had to admire her style.

She waved off the servants, though Vee remained near the door; the lycantants stood at formal guard behind Thalassa's chair, though Jupiter didn't for a second believe that they weren't aware of every inch of the room. Jupiter waited until the door slid shut behind Vee before lifting her own glass. "Miss Thalassa, it's a pleasure to meet an artist of your caliber."

The Splicer regarded Jupiter coolly. "Thank you, your Majesty, but I'm sure you can understand that there are many demands on my time. Can we get straight to the purpose of your summons?"

Jupiter cocked her head and let loose the mannered trill of laughter she'd heard Kalique use so many times. "Of course. Well then, Miss Thalassa, you took something of mine, and I want it back."

_Caine, forgive me for that one._ Though she knew he'd just blink at her and point out mildly that to the rest of the Universe he _was_ an "it" -

Thalassa settled back in her chair, a hint of a smile touching her lips; a cold one. "Your Highness, I'm sure it can't have escaped your notice that the lycantant wasn't, in fact, yours."

Jupiter waved her free hand in a careless gesture. "A technicality. Mr. Wise was part of my Royal Guard, and as such he was effectively mine."

Thalassa regarded her steadily. "The Legion will supply a replacement; in fact, they should have already."

Stinger had allowed the new guard on a provisional basis, regretfully citing the need to keep a full complement on hand while they searched for Caine, and Jupiter hadn't argued. Much.

"They did, yes, but you see I want _that_ one. Mr. Wise meets my needs in a bodyguard exactly." _And put whatever interpretation you want on that, you arrogant slaver; you'll probably be right, but you'll never understand._

"I'm sure he does." Thalassa rested the foot of her glass on the arm of her chair, and managed to sound only a little sarcastic. "But I require him to further my work. He's accomplished extraordinary things, far beyond what he should have been capable of. I need to know how he did them."

"Don't you have his geneprint on file?" Jupiter asked.

Thalassa's lenses glittered. "A map is not the territory." She touched a finger to her lips. "If you are so desirous of this one Splice, I can recreate it for you, though it goes against my principles to repeat so egregious an error."

Jupiter felt the cold anger surge up, and very carefully did not let it show. "No, I'm afraid that won't do," she said lightly. "It would take, what, at least a decade? And it would be just a genetic copy."

She sipped from her own glass and set it aside. "Miss Thalassa, I'll be blunt. I applaud your scientific fervor - " _Even if it makes me sick to my stomach -_ " - but really I'm determined to have my way. Name your price."

Thalassa's fingers tightened on the stem of her glass, and for a long moment Jupiter thought that negotiation might actually work; even without being able to see the Splicer's eyes, Jupiter could tell she was tempted. Not just for the money, but for the coup of besting an Entitled in a deal.

But then Thalassa shook her head. "My apologies, your Majesty," she said, without sounding sorry at all. "I will not be moved. My art demands answers."

Jupiter huffed, letting a hint of petulance show, and then immediately covering it with another smile. "As you say - but you must at least take luncheon with me, and allow me the chance to convince you. I insist," she added as Thalassa opened her mouth to argue.

Whatever the Splicer saw in Jupiter's face was enough to convince her, though her agreement bordered on rude. Jupiter ignored that and signaled the servitors to bring in the light meal she'd planned, chattering away to Thalassa and pretending the woman's monosyllabic responses weren't insulting. _I suppose I should ask her about her work, but I don't think I can listen to it without vomiting._

They were nearly finished with the meal when Vee reappeared, bowing to Jupiter from the doorway rather than coming in. At the sight of her, Jupiter felt a real smile coming on, and laid down her fork. "Miss Thalassa, I'll ask you one more time," she said, folding her hands and propping her elbows on the table, and abandoning her airy facade. "Sell Mr. Wise's contract to me, and I will not only make you an even wealthier woman, but you'll have all the cachet of having an Entitled petition you. Whether you choose to boast or not."

The abrupt change in her tone made the Splicer frown, clearly taken by surprise, but Thalassa didn't give way. "I'm afraid my answer has not changed, your Highness."

Jupiter gave a theatrical shrug and rose; Thalassa perforce stood also. "Can't say I didn't try," Jupiter said briskly. "I won't keep you any longer; as you said, you're busy. Come on, I'll walk you back to your shuttle."

Kalique might have hooked her arm through the Splicer's, but the grim alertness of the lycantant guards made Jupiter think that it would be prudent not to. So she strolled beside Thalassa as they made their way back to the yacht's enormous docking bay, even larger than the one on Titus' clipper and thankfully free of overwrought statuary.

The shield was still in place, Jupiter noted, shimmering beyond the veil that kept the bay's atmosphere intact, and she permitted herself another genuine smile. Thalassa's shuttle didn't use the hoverbeams; it was parked on the bay's floor, hatch open, and Thalassa's steps quickened a trifle as they neared it.

As they reached the bottom of the ramp, Jupiter held out a hand, and Vee placed a small data sheave in her palm, the kind used to store assets. Jupiter thumbed it on, raised a brow at the total, and sealed it with her sigil before extending it to Thalassa. "For your trouble," she said cheerfully.

Thalassa's brows drew together in suspicion, but she took the sheave and gave Jupiter another fractional nod. "Your Highness."

Jupiter wanted to laugh out loud, but confined herself to a return nod, gracious and regal. "Goodbye, Miss Thalassa."

She could see one of the shuttle's crew at the top of the ramp, shifting from foot to foot with impatience or distress; Thalassa saw them too, and with a last frown in Jupiter's direction hurried up the ramp with her guards. Jupiter held her place with her own guards behind her, waiting as the hatch closed and the ramp retracted. Within the shuttle, she was willing to bet, that crewmember was filling Thalassa in as to how they had lost all communication functions as soon as the Splicer had stepped onto the yacht, and how it had not yet been restored; but it didn't matter any longer.

Jupiter hadn't been willing to bet on Thalassa's giving way. The Splicer's shuttle entering the bay had been Stinger's signal, and Vee's bow the sign that his raid had been successful. Jupiter anticipated that she would be hearing from Thalassa again, despite the generous amount she'd just handed the woman for the damages; but none of it mattered.

_He's free._

The shuttle rose, turned, and glided out of the bay. As it broke through the veil, Jupiter saw the shield vanish.

She kicked off her shoes, gathered up her skirts, and sprinted back towards the lounge, the guards pacing her and Vee fluttering along by her side. "Get us out of here," Jupiter shouted at the walls, knowing that Andri would pick up her voice and relay it to the bridge. _"Now."_

"Yes, your Majesty," came the snappy response, and Jupiter pelted into the lounge and dove for the nearest console, smacking the button with one fist.

"Get me Commander Apini," she said, not caring that she was too breathless to sound royal. She winced as the yacht portaled, and dropped onto the couch, skirts any which way.

A moment later Stinger's voice echoed in the lounge. "We got him, your Majesty."

Jupiter squeezed her eyes shut, dizzy with relief. "That's good. That's _wonderful_. Is he there? How is he?"

His hesitation chilled her blood. "Not much hurt, but there's a...complication."

Jupiter pushed down panic. "We'll be there as soon as we can."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks are due to [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill) for looking over this chapter, though she might not recognize a large part of it!

_Not much hurt,_ Stinger had told her, which could have meant anything. Jupiter had given permission to use Vinge's rebuilders on him; further tests had gone perfectly, and none of his injuries were life-threatening, and while Jupiter had her medical people keep ReCell on hand for emergencies, she refused to use it for anything but dire circumstances.

Still, Caine was a mess.

He lay limp in the isolation bed, still unconscious, and Jupiter could see traces of blood on his face where the nurses hadn't had time to clean him up. His face was battered, nose swollen where the rebuilders hadn't finished their work, and she could see cuts on his hands as well. A medical 'bot stood by his bed to monitor him.

"He fought us," Stinger said from beside her, voice low and baffled. He was nursing a pretty set of bruises himself. "He knew who I was, Majesty, but he wouldn't come with us, kept saying it was his duty to stay. It didn't make any _sense_."

"Did you really have to beat him unconscious?" Jupiter asked, wincing.

"There was no room to stun him, not without taking out a few of our people too," Stinger said with a sigh. "As it was we almost didn't make it back out." His lips twisted, half pride and half exasperation. "Caine always was the best at hand-to-hand."

"We can't know what that woman told him," Jupiter said slowly. Every instinct she had urged her to go in and wrap Caine up in her arms, to kiss him awake and reassure him that no one would ever take him away from her again. But the rebuilders still required a sterile environment to work, so she stayed where she was, on the far side of the isolation field that formed one wall of the room. "She could have him believing almost anything."

Stinger grimaced. "I suppose. Well, we'll know more when he's back with us."

"Yeah." Jupiter tugged on her ponytail, glad to be out of the glassy gown. "Dr. Prrud, how long before he wakes up?"

Her chief physician, a large man with dark skin and shiny blue hair, tilted one hand back and forth. "The rebuilders will need a few hours. As Dr. Vinge said, for such internal work they're designed to keep the patient unconscious until they're finished; given Mr. Wise's metabolism, I expect he'll wake very quickly as soon as they're done."

"Right." Jupiter glanced around. "I'm going to need a comfy chair."

One of the nice things about being Queen was that there were always people happy to run errands for her. Jupiter curled up in the floating seat in front of the isolation field and settled in to wait. Assistants brought her sheaves to read and sign, and for a while Vee stopped by to go over Jupiter's adjusted schedule, but aside from a bathroom run Jupiter stayed exactly where she was, waiting for the man in the bed to stir.

For a long time she could scarcely look away, hungry for the sight of him. Aside from the bruising he was not yet harmed, Prrud had told her, though his wings had been removed surgically at some point. That last was another notch in the tally against Thalassa, and Jupiter hurt inside to think how it must have been for him. _Never again,_ she thought fiercely in his direction. _Never again._

It was, to her, a miracle to watch the bruises fade from his face and the swelling sink away. And underneath her worry and fatigue was a quiet exultation. _They work, they really do work._

The rebuilders were only the first step, Jupiter knew that. They were far too time-consuming and complicated to replace ReCell as a commercial product.

_But it's a start._

She wanted to watch the whole time, but the sheaves were dry and it had been a _long_ two days since Stinger's word had come. Eventually Jupiter's eyelids closed, and she drifted away on the faint murmur of medical voices…

The crash that jolted her awake nearly had her falling out of the chair. Jupiter sat up straight; Caine was on his feet, looking perfectly healthy, and joy rose up in her for an instant before he picked up what was left of the medbot and threw it at the isolation field. Sparks flew everywhere, and the chassis disintegrated into parts, bouncing back into the room.

" _Caine?"_ Jupiter scrambled to her feet, standing as close as she dared to the field, and he spun to face her. His eyes were narrow, his sharp teeth just showing, and Stinger's voice spoke from memory: _when he's mad, you'll know it._

His expression didn't alter at the sight of her. Caine stalked up to the field, and even through its thickness she could hear his growl. And something was driving a spike through her chest, because all that rage was directed at _her_.

"Caine," she said again, or tried to, but while she felt her lips move no sound came out. He bared his teeth further in a snarl.

"Why are you holding me?" His voice was as furious as his face. "I belong to Simone Thalassa. I need to return to her."

Jupiter's throat knotted shut. Behind her were shouts, and Stinger and three of his squad pounded into view, armed but not armored; behind them were Dr. Prrud and a nurse. "Your Majesty!" Stinger shouted. "Please, step away from the field - "

Jupiter ignored him, swallowing hard. "Caine," she said carefully. "Caine, you're free now. You don't have to go back."

His gaze flicked away from her - as if she were _nothing_ \- to look beyond her. "Stinger, what are you _doing?_ Why did you bring me here?"

Stinger halted next to Jupiter, automatically edging forward to step between Jupiter and the field, except that she didn't move. "Caine," he said, and she could hear the same stunned pain in his voice. _"Stand down_. We're not your enemies."

Caine's face screwed up, disbelieving and still angry. "That's _shit_ , Stinger! You _stole_ me! I have a duty there!" The rage ebbed a bit, replaced by hurt. "Is this because of the court-martial?"

Stinger's shoulders jerked, as if at a blow. " _No,_ boy, we're even!" He unfurled the wing furthest from Jupiter. "Don't you remember?"

Caine's brows twitched as he stared at Stinger. "They didn't take your wings after all?"

Stinger frowned back at him. "Of course they did - you're the reason I've got mine back. We'll get you yours again, don't worry - "

Caine shook his head. "I'm a criminal, Stinger, remember? Clipped and stripped. The only reason I'm out is because Miss Thalassa pulled me for study."

Jupiter's stomach lurched, and she remembered staring at a baffling picture on her phone. "Caine," she said. "What's the last thing you remember, before Thalassa took you back?"

He glanced at her, teeth still showing a little. "The Deadland," he said, half to Stinger. "Stinger, I need to get _back_. It's my duty, you _know_ that."

Jupiter heard a faint, despairing sound, and realized it was coming from _her._ Next to her, Stinger bowed his head. "That's a problem," he said quietly.

_They blanked you,_ the memory of Caine said in Jupiter's head. _Short-term stuff is easy._

Jupiter sank weak-kneed into her chair and stared at the man on the other side of the field. _He doesn't even know who I am._

_Caine..._

* * *

A little while later Jupiter met with Stinger and Dr. Prrud in the latter's office. All the joy was gone from Stinger's face, and Prrud looked worried; Jupiter took her seat with a tired wince. "Well?"

Prrud sighed. "Mr. Wise won't allow us to examine him, but it's clear that his memory has been tampered with."

"Yeah, no kidding," Jupiter said, trying to keep the sharpness out of her voice. "First question is, is it reversible?"

"Without more data, I can only theorize. There are several ways to erase specific memories, but a time period as long as two years is not trivial." Prrud tapped nervous fingers on his desktop. "It's more likely that Mr. Wise's memories were blocked rather than physically erased; actually destroying long-term memories in quantity causes enough damage to the brain's structure to make it impractical in cases such as this."

"Where you want the subject to still walk an' talk," Stinger interjected dryly.

Prrud inclined his head. "Some are reversible, some are not. The brain is a complex structure, your Majesty, and despite millennia of study it still retains some mystery."

Jupiter wanted to curse. "In other words, you don't know, and he won't let you find out."

"We could attempt to sedate him again, but that might prove difficult without his cooperation," Prrud said.

"We could stun him," Stinger said uneasily, but Prrud shook his head.

"That should be avoided if at all possible. Depending on the method used on his memories, stun could make recovery much more difficult."

Jupiter rubbed her aching eyes. "Let's focus on what we've got, for the moment. Caine has no memory back to when Titus' agents pulled him out of prison, and for whatever hellish reason, he thinks he has to return to Thalassa and let her pull him to pieces." And if she ever saw the woman again, Jupiter thought, she would be severely tempted to show her the same _Bolotnikov_ temper she'd displayed to Mr. Night, but that was a concern for later. "Can he get out of the isolation room?"

"Not as long as we keep it locked down, your Majesty," Pruud said, and shook his head again at Stinger's doubtful look. "It's designed to hold delirious patients twice Mr. Wise's size, Commander Apini. He can charge the field if he wants to, but it won't gain him anything."

"And we can give him whatever he needs, food, clothing, etcetera?" The room had a small lavatory unit set in one corner behind a privacy shield, so Jupiter knew that was handled.

"Yes, or we can send in another medbot." Prrud made a face, presumably at the memory of what had happened to the first one.

"Okay then. Let's just...see if we can talk him around. Or at least into letting you examine him." Prrud looked as if he didn't like the idea, and Jupiter couldn't blame him, but the physician didn't protest.

Stinger stirred. "I'm not sure that's going to work, Majesty. You know how stubborn Caine can be about his duty."

_But it's_ _ **not**_ _his duty,_ Jupiter wanted to shout, except - maybe it was, legally speaking. On the moral side, however -

Irritation made her voice harsh. "Do you have any other suggestions? Because right now it looks like all we can do is wait."

Stinger flinched a little, and Jupiter immediately felt bad, but he sighed. "I'm afraid you're right."

When Jupiter returned to the isolation room, Stinger in tow, Caine was pacing back and forth across the length of the space, occasionally kicking aside a piece of the shattered medbot. He looked _worried_ , Jupiter realized, his brows drawn together with concern and his mouth tight, and the sight cut deep.

_Stinger's right. He really does think he has to go back to that woman._ It was as if all the slow blossoming of his confidence and self-worth, all the nurturing of her love for him, had been sucked away, making him again the scorned, hopeless man who considered himself less than human and thought his only value was in serving a cruel purpose.

_I guess it has been, in a way._

Well, she was going to give it _back_ , even if she had to start at the beginning again. Jupiter marched right up to the field and stopped, lifting her chin and trying to catch Caine's gaze.

He looked at her briefly, frowning in puzzlement and renewed anger, but quickly turned his attention to Stinger. "You have to let me out, Stinger. I need to go back."

Stinger puffed out a breath. "We'll talk about that in a minute."

Caine's gaze shifted back to Jupiter. "Who's she?"

Jupiter held up a hand to forestall Stinger's explanation. "My name's Jupiter," she said, voice as calm as she could make it. "You're here under my authority."

It hurt again to watch his face go blank and still, personality retreating as his hands went behind his back. Caine didn't step back, but his body canted away from her, as if she were dangerous. "How should I address you, miss?"

She pulled in air, let it out in a controlled breath. "Just Jupiter is fine."

Caine widened his stance, looking past her and into the distance. "I...I have to insist you release me, miss. I have a duty to my Splicer and I shouldn't be here."

For an instant Jupiter wanted so badly to _lie_ to him, to tell him that Thalassa had sold his contract to her and that he was free. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay put for the moment. C - Mr. Wise, Simone Thalassa, uh, took away some of your memories. You actually belong here with me."

Caine frowned faintly. "I - that doesn't make sense. Why would she do that?"

"We're still trying to figure that out." Jupiter shrugged.

"Where am I?" Caine's gaze flicked to her face and then away again.

"My alcazar, it's on Dvodie III - "

Jupiter stopped as Caine flinched away, backing up a step despite the screen. "An alcazar - Stinger, are you _crazy?_ You let an _Entitled_ in here, after what I did?"

Stinger snorted tiredly. "Since when does an Entitled do anything but what they want?"

Caine's shoulders hunched, and he retreated another few feet. "Don't be an idiot, boy," Stinger snapped. "You can't do a thing from in there."

"Mr. Wise." Jupiter tried again. "It's actually been a little over two years since you left the Deadland, and it wasn't because of Thalassa."

Caine was staring at the floor. "No. That can't be right - " His head came up, expression clearing. "Is this a test? Part of the study?"

It was too much. Jupiter pressed a hand to her mouth, whirled, and ran.

* * *

He didn't understand.

Caine paced around and around the small room, ignoring the medical bed even though he was starting to be tired. Whatever his captors had done to him while he'd been out had been effective, his bruises were all gone, but that had been hours ago and he was still trapped in the little isolation chamber.

It had been a shock when the door of his room had disintegrated and a raiding squad had poured in, already taking fire from outside; and a worse one when they'd grabbed Caine and tried to pull him _out_. He remembered the surprise of seeing Stinger's face when the leader had de-opaqued his helmet visor, but it didn't make any difference. Caine belonged to Thalassa and he had to stay.

Unfortunately, there had been too many of them, even in the small confines of his room, and someone had eventually got in a lucky punch. And he'd woken again in another cell, stolen, his honor violated.

But _why?_

"Well, this is a hell of a mess."

Caine spun to see Stinger on the other side of the isolation field, staring in at him. He looked about the same as Caine remembered from the court-martial, down to dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept much lately. "Commander," Caine said, the response automatic before he remembered that he wasn't a Skyjacker any longer.

Stinger's mouth twisted, and he reached out one arm to snag the float-chair and settle in it, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. "Might as well get comfortable. This is going to take a while."

Caine folded his arms. "I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself." Stinger stared at him, looking close enough to touch. The isolation barrier was invisible and almost inaudible, producing just the slightest tickle of a hum on the edge of Caine's auditory range, but he could smell it, the touch of ozone of a live field. The only other things to smell were himself and the clean sheets on the bed; even the air coming in the tiny vents was processed to the point of emptiness, and the lack made Caine feel numb and blunted.

"Are you going to explain?" Caine asked after a moment, and Stinger's lips twisted.

"Just trying to get my words lined up. It really should be h - ah - Jupiter doing the explaining, but she tapped me for it since you don't seem to know who she is."

"Entitled," Caine said darkly. That was really all he needed to know.

Stinger's exhale was almost amusement. "That's one thing." He clasped his hands together, hunching a little, and Caine could just make out the arch of his wings where they were folded against his back. "I'll just start at the beginning, aye?"

Caine raised a brow, and waited. This oddly hesitant version of Stinger was very strange, and slightly irritating, and it made the whole situation feel just that much more _wrong_.

"All right then. Your memories are good up to the point where you were imprisoned." Stinger watched Caine's face as he spoke, his tone careful. "But it wasn't Simone Thalassa who picked you up, it was Titus Abrasax. He wanted you to hunt someone down, a tercie Recurrence, and bring her to him."

That sounded almost plausible. Caine's reputation as a hunter had been nearly legendary, before he'd destroyed his life. He listened as Stinger continued.

"You found her, all right, but the other Abrasax heirs had their fingers in the mix, and you ended up at my hatch when your contact was killed. I was an Aegis marshal on your target's planet," Stinger added. He turned his hands palm-out.

"We lost round two of the tussle for her, but you went after her and caught up on Kalique Abrasax's turf. The Aegis picked me up and I was right behind you, and you took her through Orus to claim her title."

"Wait, what?" Caine frowned. "Why would I do that, if my brief was to turn her over to Lord Titus?"

Stinger's lips twitched. "Believe me, I was asking the same question. Though I can't blame you for switching allegiance."

Caine stared at him. "You expect me to believe that?" he said. "Since when do I fail on a job like that?"

"Well, you don't normally, but - "

Anger rose metallic in the back of his throat. "This is _shit,_ Stinger," he repeated. "I would never break a contract like that. I have my honor." It was the _only_ thing he had, and he would hang onto it with all his strength.

Stinger rose to his feet, face creasing in frustration. "Will you just _listen_ , boy? Things are different now, you - "

Anger abruptly became fury, and Caine snarled at him. "You're _lying_ , Commander. I don't know why, but it won't work. You can't make me betray Miss Thalassa."

He would have left Stinger if he could, but there was nowhere to go to get away from him. Caine spun and strode over to the bed, sitting down with his back to the field; hiding in the sanitation cubicle was a little too petty.

He could still hear Stinger's exasperated sigh. "You'll have the rest of it whether you believe it or not. And then we'll see if Jupiter can talk sense into you."

Caine's hearing was too sharp for putting a pillow over his head to work, and it would have been undignified anyway, so he had to listen as Stinger spun the rest of his ridiculous tale. And it _was_ ridiculous, to the point where Caine thought they really could have come up with something more plausible.

_The Recurrence of Queen Seraphi Abrasax choosing_ _ **me**_ _as her_ _ **consort**_ _? That's_ _ **absurd**_ _. Impossible._ He didn't know why Stinger would lie to him, but there was no way he was telling the truth. And why would Thalassa wipe his memories? If she'd purchased his contract, Caine would have obeyed her. That was his _duty_.

It _had_ to be a test, some elaborate program Thalassa was using to study him. Caine held onto the thought firmly. All he had to do was remain loyal to her, and sooner or later the test would be over, and he would have done well.

She might even be pleased with him.

He closed his eyes, and didn't look up when Stinger left.

* * *

Since she'd claimed her title as a queen and an Abrasax, Jupiter had been in a _lot_ of situations where she didn't know what she was doing. Standing on the far side of the isolation barrier from a still-angry Caine was another one - a Caine who didn't recognize her or even know who she was.

Jupiter knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. The sight of him, healthy and whole, didn't satisfy the tearing longing within her, but it was _something_ \- and just knowing he was well was a blessing for which she was grateful.

He stared back, wary enough to remain several steps away from the barrier even though he couldn't possibly get through it. "Miss."

"It's Jupiter." She wanted to rest her palms on the field, though she knew touching it would bounce her hands back. "How are you feeling?"

For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer. "I'm well," he said finally, voice stilted.

"Good."

All the things she'd wanted to say, that she'd been hoarding until he was found - _I love you I missed you you're essential I love you don't ever leave me again -_ they crowded up in her throat, and Jupiter had to clear it to speak again. "Is there anything you need?"

Caine folded his arms. "My freedom."

Jupiter winced. "Not...yet," she said. "Besides that."

Caine shook his head. Jupiter leaned a little closer to the barrier. Her head hurt, her heart hurt; this was all _wrong_.

"I know it sounds crazy," she said, trying to find the right combination of words. "But we're telling the truth. You really did rescue me from Keepers and bounty hunters and Titus. You really are my consort."

Caine dropped his gaze. "Your program's flawed," he said flatly. "If you wanted me to believe you should have come up with a better story."

"It's not a - " Jupiter snapped her mouth shut and squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to master her frustration.

"You should let me go," Caine said. "Whatever you're trying to do isn't working."

"You'd just go right back to her, wouldn't you?" Something hard and heavy was sitting in the middle of her chest, constricting her breath.

"That is my duty." He didn't even sound upset.

"Caine, she will _kill_ you. Her idea of studying means she'll take you apart." Jupiter tried to meet his eyes, but he was looking over her shoulder. "You don't owe her anything."

His expression didn't change. "She holds my contract. I owe her obedience."

They were getting nowhere, and the weight was getting heavier, and finally Jupiter recognized it for what it was. Part of her wanted to shake Caine and shout at him, part of her wanted to pin him down and kiss him until he came to his senses, but neither was possible and -

She took a deep breath, pushing back the grief that was threatening to spill over. "I - I'm going to let you rest, it's getting late." _We can try again in the morning._

However long it took, they would try.

Caine didn't move as Jupiter turned to go, but she'd only gotten a couple of meters away when he spoke. "...Something to read?"

She glanced back, and felt a smile turn up her lips despite the weight. "Absolutely."

* * *

It was like prodding a bruise, but Jupiter couldn't stay away.

Every moment she could spare from the past two days had been spent curled up in the chair outside Caine's room - not as many as she would have liked, but some Entitled business just couldn't be put off. Not to mention she was trying to keep her desk clear for when Simone Thalassa got around to retaliating; Jupiter had absolutely no doubt that she _would_ , but upper-society time senses were distinctly stretched and Jupiter knew it could be months before the woman made a move.

In the meantime, she had more than enough to worry about.

She'd issued orders that Caine be made comfortable, and so the little room now had a stack of sheaves and some of his favorite holo series, extra clothes and toiletries. There was even a sort of curtain on wheels he could pull in front of the force screen when he wanted privacy.

All the same, Jupiter was quite aware that the isolation room was essentially a prison cell. Items could be passed through the screen without permitting the inhabitant to leave, so providing Caine with meals and essentials was easy, but Stinger categorically refused to let anyone go in to examine Caine, on the reasonable grounds that it would just give Caine a hostage to use as leverage.

And Caine flatly refused to believe they were telling the truth.

Jupiter could understand that, on one level. He apparently had no memories at all of her, or any of the events that had brought them together; as far as he was concerned, the whole thing was an improbable fiction, all the more so because it really _was_ improbable. In Gyre society, as Caine had told her time after time, Entitled did not associate with Splices and they certainly didn't treat them as equals.

But still, she couldn't stay away.

Caine shut off the sheave he was holding with an impatient snap. "Faked," he said.

Jupiter muffled a sigh of frustration. " _All_ of them?" Jarvis had assembled almost an hour's worth of recordings of Caine with Jupiter, Caine with Stinger, Caine leading the Royal Guard, Caine doing airborne loops over the alcazar for sheer fun - some of it official public footage, some of it from security.

Caine shrugged and tossed the sheave onto his bed. "It wouldn't be difficult."

Jupiter bit her lip, because unfortunately, he was right. Caine paused, as if waiting for her next argument, then resumed his pacing.

Mostly he paced, when she was there. Occasionally he lay on the bed with an arm over his eyes; once he'd gone as far as to use the screen, but Jupiter had the peculiar feeling that he'd thought it was rude somehow. Not that she'd asked.

The whole thing still felt so utterly _wrong_. She kept watching for any sign that his memory might be returning, but so far there was nothing. Caine hardly spoke, and his brows were drawn in a perpetual frown; when he did look at her his expression was sullen and resentful, and Jupiter knew he blamed her for his situation.

_Well, he should. I am responsible for it._

"Ma'am, you have a visitor," a smooth voice murmured in her ear, and she recognized it as Arkady, the medical building's presence.

"Oh good." Jupiter stood, and waited for Caine to make his turn and face her again, because it _was_ rude to just walk away. "I won't be long."

The slight tilt of his head might have been acknowledgment. Jupiter turned and hurried down the hall towards the front door; the slender figure coming to meet her was moving at the same speed, and held out her arms as they met.

Jupiter half-fell into Kiza's hug, eyes suddenly stinging, and huffed as Kiza's embrace tightened. "You look a mess, Majesty."

Jupiter wanted to laugh. "It's been a rough few weeks." She squeezed a little harder, then drew back. "Thanks for coming."

Kiza grinned. "Who am I to refuse a royal command?" she joked, but Jupiter could see the stress in her face as well. "How is he, really?"

"Physically, he's fine." Jupiter grimaced. "The rebuilders work, apparently. But as far as he's concerned everything after the Deadland is a fairy tale."

Kiza shook her head. "Head made out of starsteel," she muttered. "He and Dad used to try to out-stubborn each other. Mostly Caine won," she added before Jupiter could ask.

"He's winning this time." Jupiter sighed. "Look, I'll just let you talk to him alone, okay? We're not getting along too well right - "

Her throat swelled on the last word as the grief surged, and Kiza gave her a sympathetic look and another quick, hard hug. "Do my best, Majesty," she said in Jupiter's ear, and let her go.

Jupiter managed a smile, and jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. "Thataway."

She took a break for a little while, holing up in the empty staff lounge with a cup of the Dvodie system's equivalent to coffee, banishing her synth-guards to the other side of the door; the 'bots might not have consciousness, but she didn't want them staring at her either just then. She knew Kiza couldn't stay for long - she had another exam in twelve hours, and it was only Jupiter's speedy clipper that allowed her to take even this much time.

When Jupiter emerged, she couldn't keep herself from taking a peek from a ways down the hall. The sight made her swallow hard again; Kiza was sitting cross-legged on the floor just outside the field, hands moving expressively, and Caine was kneeling on the other side, watching with wide-eyed intensity.

Jupiter crossed her fingers, and left them to it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill) looked this over. Any flaws are my ignoring of her excellent advice.

The cadence of footsteps was light, light and familiar, and Caine looked up as they approached, puzzled.

" _Kiza?"_

She grinned, wide and delighted, and pleasure and guilt tangled together in his gut. "Hallo, Caine."

Caine found himself on his feet, looking down at his old friend on the other side of the barrier, half of him wishing he could pull her in for a hug and half wanting to hide in shame. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, soldier." Her smirk made it a tease, but Caine flinched all the same, taking a step back.

"Not any more," he said, the words rasping through his throat, and Kiza sobered.

"Aye, but - " She sighed, and even without being able to smell her Caine could tell she was tired. "Look, do you mind if I sit?"

Caine opened a hand, and Kiza ignored the Entitled's float chair and sat cross-legged on the floor instead. Caine knelt on the other side. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Exams are tough, and I can't stay long - barely had time to give Dad a kiss. But Jupiter asked, and I couldn't say no."

Caine frowned at the name. "I don't understand why she's doing this."

"She's trying to save your arse," Kiza snapped, giving him a glare. Caine glared right back, and she sighed, anger slipping into worry. "Eh, Dad was right. This _is_ a mess."

Caine pressed his palms into his thighs, feeling a swell of uneasiness, sharpening toward alarm. "It's good to see you, but - why are you really here? Did - did Miss Thalassa - "

Kiza lifted her chin, frowning hard. "She's got nothing to do with me, Wise. I'm here because her Majesty asked."

Caine tensed. "Why..."

"Because you might believe _me._ " Her hair was plaited messily back, and she reached up to tug on the end of the braid.

"Is...is this part of the test?" His heartrate was climbing, and Caine knew exactly why.

"It's not a test." Kiza's face softened into sadness. "They're telling the truth."

He stared at her, unable to find more words. Caine had no difficulty picturing Stinger lying, if he were ordered to do so. If Simone Thalassa were testing Caine, it wouldn't have been hard to hire a cashiered ex-Legionnaire to add verisimilitude.

But not Kiza. Oh, she could lie to her father with a perfectly straight face, but Caine could always smell out a falsehood, and she knew it. And even though he couldn't smell her now, with the isolation field in the way, he could tell that she wouldn't try. His question was only a last grasp at denial.

"It's not possible," he said through numb lips. "How could it be possible?"

Kiza's hand twitched, as if she wanted to reach out to him. "It's not," she said with a thread of humor. "But Jupiter changes things. She just _does_."

Caine shook his head. Kiza pulled her braid again. "I was there," she added. "At least for some of it. You were so happy - I'd never seen you so happy."

Caine closed his eyes for a moment. "Stop." He couldn't - couldn't - it was too strange, too different, and what was happiness to a Splice? "Just - not that. Don't talk about that."

Kiza was watching him with the same sadness she'd always worn when he'd stumbled over some bit of kindness offered him, and it hurt the way it always had. For all her wits, she couldn't understand; she'd always had Stinger to love her, she'd always been perfect.

"I can't make you believe it," she said quietly. "But it's true all the same. You can have it again, even if you never remember."

Caine bit his lip and rocked a little, wanting to push to his feet and walk away, but he couldn't leave and he _knew_ she didn't mean him harm.

Kiza held up both hands. "I'll stop, I'll stop," she said with a weak smile. "They're treating you right at least?"

Caine exhaled and nodded, and forced himself to focus on Kiza, not the yawning dichotomy of what he remembered and what they were all telling him. "You're in school?"

She brightened. "Aye, you're looking at the first recipient of the Maximilian Jones Merit Scholarship. Well, one of the first hundred, but her Majesty said she was allowed a _little_ nepotism. Sent me to Terzan Center."

Caine felt his brows go up at that, surprise and approval. The Terzan Center was one of the top schools in the known worlds, and the best that would admit Splices. It was also far too expensive for most citizens, let alone anyone else. "Impressive."

Kiza beamed. "It's tough, but I'm having so much _fun_ ," she said, and gave him a rapid-fire account of courses, studies, tests, and fellow students, scattered enough to force him to concentrate to understand, and it was a blessing to be distracted for a few minutes. Kiza had always wanted to study oruforming, the planetary bioscience that could make a world habitable, but the cost had always put it far out of her reach. Watching her smile, Caine thought he could acknowledge the Entitled for this, at least - giving his friend her dream.

Before Kiza ran out of charge, though, Caine heard the murmur as the building's presence spoke in Kiza's ear. Her shoulders slumped.

"Time's up," she said ruefully. "If I don't leave now I'll miss the subduction exam, and I can't afford to lose the points." She yawned hugely.

_Don't go,_ Caine wanted to say, but he knew he never would, and anyway he wouldn't try to keep her from her work. He rose as she did, wishing the barrier wasn't there.

Judging from her frustrated twitch, Kiza felt the same. "You can trust them, you know," she said, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "Dad and Jupiter. Just trust them, Caine."

_Trust is irrelevant._ The thought was clear and cold, but he didn't voice it, just holding up a hand, palm out. Kiza matched it on the other side of the field; then her lips twisted into a sad smile, and she blew him a kiss and hurried away.

Caine watched her disappear from his field of view. The words were still echoing in his head, and without really thinking about it he pulled the privacy screen into place and went to sit on the bed. After a few minutes he turned so that he was facing the wall instead of the room. The wall was boring, but _boring_ was what he needed right then.

Caine let his eyes lose focus in the blankness in front of him. All the pleasure of Kiza's visit had vanished like a popped bubble, and he felt hollow and lost, even more than he had when his sentence had been read.

_I don't know myself any more._

In his career as a soldier, Caine had experienced more than one ship being destroyed around him, both in atmosphere and in vacuum. It had something of the same feel; stability shaking itself apart, gravity gone awry.

The room he was in was still secure, nothing had changed - except his perception.

_How could I do this?_

Kiza's words had turned everything upside down.

_If she's telling the truth, so are Stinger and the Entitled woman. Which means - which means I really did do that._

_I betrayed my honor. I turned my back on my duty._

He couldn't imagine doing it, couldn't think of any reason that would be enough to _break_ him that way. All his life Caine had striven to please, to obey, to be good - to be _better_ , worthy, _enough_.

_How could I let that go? It was all I had._

If it was all true...and he was beginning to believe that it must be...then he had nothing at all. Not honor, not pride, not even the fantastical life that they'd all spoken of. If the Entitled queen really had loved him - and Caine still couldn't see how _that_ could be true - she had loved someone who no longer existed. Those memories were gone.

He was as he had been in the Deadland - an animal in a cage.

Caine lidded his eyes, and retreated into the darkness.

* * *

Jupiter was not at all surprised to find herself outside Caine's room at two in the morning. The medical building was all but empty - any on-duty personnel were in the emergency section - which made it all the simpler for her to be there in what were essentially pajamas. The lights were at half-strength as she halted next to the field, deepening shadows and making the whole place a bit eerie.

Earlier, after Kiza's flying visit, Caine had retreated behind his privacy screen and not come out for hours. Stinger had been worried and Jupiter had been almost out of her mind, even though Kiza had said that Caine had seemed to finally believe that they were telling the truth.

Jupiter more than half-expected to find him sleeping. All she wanted was a glimpse, she told herself; one look, and then she'd tiptoe away again.

But Caine was awake, sitting in the chair and reading a sheave. He looked up and shut it off, setting it aside. "Miss."

She gave him half a smile. "You can't sleep either?"

He didn't reply. Jupiter curled up in her own chair, feeling exhaustion eating at her bones. It was still good to know Caine was there, and safe, but at the same time she _missed_ him. Her partner, her lover, her consort and safe haven - that Caine was gone, maybe forever, and she felt the lack as if something vital had been torn from her body, and the wound would not heal.

Caine was silent for a while, and Jupiter didn't speak either; she had run out of words. She tried not to stare at him, but after two years she'd gotten pretty good at reading his body language, stilted as it often was, and he didn't seem so _angry_ any longer.

_No. More...resigned._

The realization started a tiny chill in her heart.

Finally Caine stood, but instead of pacing he leaned one shoulder against the wall near where it met the field, folding his arms and regarding Jupiter. "I don't understand, miss," he said.

Jupiter was just as glad for the title, because hearing _your Majesty_ out of his mouth right then might break her down. "What is it?"

He pressed his lips together, hesitating. "If Kiza...if you're telling the truth, about - about everything, why would Miss Thalassa erase my memories?"

The surge of anger was familiar by now. "I don't know. But I wouldn't put anything past that woman." Jupiter felt her hands curl into fists. "Maybe it was part of her _study_." She almost spat the last word.

Caine was silent again, obviously thinking, and Jupiter didn't interrupt. He was so beautiful, she thought tiredly, even stripped of his wings; he was wearing a loose dark shirt, not the vest he usually favored, but it still reminded her of when they'd first met, when he'd caught her back from death again and again, protection and devotion she hadn't understood but treasured all the same -

"She holds my contract now," Caine said slowly. "I owe her my duty."

"Caine, she wants to take you to pieces." Jupiter tried to keep her voice level. "You don't owe her anything."

He cocked his head, and the absence of anger in his eyes made the chill in her heart deepen. "You don't understand. Obedience is a Splice's first duty. I belong to her."

"You don't belong to anybody! She took you _against your will_." Jupiter struggled for words to make it clear. "And don't say you don't get a choice, because you _do_. You chose to stay with me and she had no right to take you."

Caine exhaled. "You keep saying that. That I got to choose what I wanted to do. That I wasn't under orders." His expression was drawn in, brow furrowed.

"Yes." _Come on,_ Jupiter thought. _Make the leap, Caine. She can't hold you if you don't let her._

"Stinger...he said that I have the choice because of you, that you're the one who doesn't treat Splices like Splices."

"You're human beings," Jupiter confirmed, lifting her chin. "You have the same rights as anyone else, even if people - ignore that."

"Then - " He swallowed, and lifted his head until his gaze met hers. "Then you don't have the right to hold me against my will."

_...No._

It was the conclusion she'd been desperately hoping he'd overlook. Jupiter dropped her eyes, unable to think of a reply, and Caine moved closer, to stand on the other side of the barrier and look down at her.

"If you've been telling the truth, then you _have_ to let me go." His voice was low, but firm, and the sound seemed to wedge a blade into her heart.

She lifted her head, feeling a hot droplet trailing down her cheek and unable to care. "Don't you understand? She will _kill_ _you_."

"It doesn't matter." He glanced away. "I choose my duty."

Jupiter locked down the wail of denial that was rising in her throat. He was right.

_All along, this has been about choice._ _**We've** _ _been about choice. Me choosing him, him choosing - everything._

_If I say no, I'm no better than all the others._

The blade in her heart twisted as Jupiter pushed to her feet, but when she headed for the isolation field's control interface Caine stepped back. "No - not you. Please, miss." He put his hands behind his back. "I - I can't be trusted."

_You would never hurt me._ But Jupiter dropped her hand all the same. He was asking, after all.

Her first thought was to call Stinger, but then she would either have to convince him, which would take time - she could already picture his horror and fury - or flat-out order him, and that would be its own betrayal.

_And if I wait until morning I will lose my courage entirely._

Jupiter cleared her throat. "Arkady?"

"Yes, your Majesty?" The building presence's voice was calm.

"I'm going to leave the building; fifteen minutes after I leave, shut down the isolation field to Mr. Wise's room." She cocked a brow at Caine. "Will that be long enough?"

He nodded slowly, and she felt the tears come in earnest now, hot on her cheeks but cooling as they dripped from her chin. _No, no, no..._

Turning to go was one of the hardest things Jupiter had ever done, right up there with choosing to sacrifice her own family to save a planet. But this didn't feel like saving anything, and she had to force herself into each step back down the corridor.

One glance back was all she allowed herself, searing it into her memory; the long darkness of the hall, the lit square of the field's edges, and beyond it the bright-crowned silhouette of her one true love.

In all the time since they'd got him back, she realized, she had never once been able to touch him.

_Caine._

Jupiter closed her eyes, and turned away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relax. I posted two chapters this time. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill) didn't see half of this chapter, so blame it on me. ;P She approved the other half, though!
> 
> Please note that the rating has gone up, though really, it's hardly worth the bump.

Caine disciplined himself to patience. After so much time locked in a box, his freedom had come all unexpected. He hadn't thought his jailer would allow the argument, but apparently she had enough of a sense of honor for that at least. And it would give him the opportunity to recover a little of his own.

All he had to do was wait a few more minutes.

He held still as he waited; pacing was for downtime. Now he was on a hunt, waiting for the moment of release to pursue his quarry. Granted, in this case _quarry_ was some form of transport that could get him back to Thalassa's facility, but Caine didn't fool himself into thinking it was going to be easy.

 _Obedience is a Splice's first duty._ It beat in his head, over and over. He'd disgraced himself in the worst way by attacking an Entitled, reneging on his contract with Lord Titus, and allowing himself to be taken from Thalassa's facility - but now he had one last chance at redemption, at proving he could be of some small worth after all.

The story of his missing memories kept playing in the back of his head, vague bright images. Caine couldn't bring them into focus; they were fantasy. Him, the consort of an _Entitled_? Even one so odd as this supposed ex-tercie? She was definitely intriguing, with her level dark eyes and her strange attitude, but - how could he even stand to be around her, after what he'd done? How could she not fear him? It still didn't make _sense._

Caine focused on the present instead, running contingency plans through his head - none fully formed since he had no idea what the ground was like out there. He felt bad that he couldn't see Stinger one last time, but - _It's easier this way._

The field deactivated, and Caine rocked a little on his feet as its faint tickling hum vanished and the outside air came rushing in, thick with odors. Mostly they were indoor and medical, but it was still a richness that his confinement had denied him, and Caine breathed deeply, sifting through them. Carpeting, equipment, hints of people...

He opened his mouth a fraction to widen his range. There was a thread of scent running through the mélange, an intriguing hint of something he couldn't quite identify.

 _You don't have time for this._ Caine scooped up the makeshift club he'd scavenged from the ruined medbot and stepped cautiously out of the room, ears pricked for any lurkers. They'd given him proper clothes, at least, even if he was still restricted to soft medical slippers instead of boots, but in this case it was an advantage. He padded silently up the corridor, going in the opposite direction from the Entitled and following the exit lights. He hoped with a sudden thrill of alarm that she'd kept going when she'd left, and wasn't lingering somewhere nearby. _I don't know what she smells like - I can't avoid her._

In fact, he detected no one nearby; all the scents were faded, remnants of hours past. Caine turned right at the corridor's t-junction, and found himself passing through automatic doors and out into the night.

His eyes widened, because it was _beautiful._

Dvodie III's skies boasted at least four small moons and one large one, shedding a silver-gilt light that made everything it touched glimmer. A thick wave of odors rode the warm night, flowers and plants and water, stone and electronics and the indefinable freshness of open air. It was a lush and heady mix, even with the sharper notes of living beings included; Caine didn't slow down, but he did savor each indrawn breath.

His eyes had no trouble with the dimness and his ears could hear heartbeats from meters away. Caine moved away from the medical building, taking his time as he slipped from shadow to shadow, and stretching out muscles weary with long confinement. The complex was sprawling and lushly greenscaped, which contributed to its beauty but also made it easier for him to hide. The Entitled might have given him his freedom, but that didn't mean whoever else he encountered wouldn't take exception.

Caine's duty called him offworld immediately, but he needed a ship to do it. The best way to find the hangar in this quiet night was to quarter the grounds, so he did just that, following likely-looking paths and sniffing the air for traces of ozone and metal.

The strange thread of scent kept teasing his nose. He didn't know what it was, exactly, but it was alluring somehow, a tiny beckoning that danced at the edge of his senses, hinting at something...something _good_.

 _No time,_ he reminded himself. _As soon as dayshift comes on, things'll get complicated at the very least._

But the complex was laid out in curves and tangles, no straight path to be found anywhere. He didn't get lost, exactly, but Caine found himself on the edge of a wide lake, dark waters serenely mirroring the moons back to the sky. There were fewer buildings here, and more guards, and Caine had to exert himself a little to ghost past them.

His concentration was slipping. Each time he breathed in, searching for the smell that would lead him to a ship, the other scent was there instead, and it stole his attention. It was _calling_ to him somehow, whispering of something he couldn't name but _wanted_.

 _You have a duty,_ he reminded himself harshly. _This is your last opportunity to regain your honor. If you can't find it by nose, find a map._

 _That_ meant finding a comm console. Caine looked around; the nearest building showed no light in the windows, and it was set back on the lakeshore, a bit away from all the others. _Good; less chance of being spotted._

There were two synth guards watching the door at the front, but it was no challenge to escape their notice. Caine made his way around to the back of the building, hoping to find a window large enough for him to crawl through, but rather to his surprise there was another door, this one unguarded. It didn't even seem to be monitored.

Nor was it locked. His steps were silent as he approached it, but it slid open for him before he even touched it. Caine hesitated, but somehow it didn't _feel_ like a trap.

He stepped inside, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and -

It was like walking into a wall. That scent, that elusive attractive scent was everywhere, dense and _alive,_ and it poured into him and through him like a high dose of ReCell, waking every nerve and shutting down all his other senses. He _knew_ it somehow, couldn't imagine how he had forgotten it, but he couldn't -

\- couldn't remem -

_Oh._

It wasn't violent. It was a dream, a gorgeous dream of perfect rightness, and he was awake in it. He lived it all again; the fragile delight of meeting, the sickening loss of realization, the torment of wanting, the bitter iron of resolution.

The wild fear, fear of losing, fear of _having_. The brilliant upwelling of joy.

The days and weeks and months of bliss, of belonging, of home and family and _love._

Everything he'd forgotten - everything that had been _taken_ from him, shoveled into a hole in his brain and buried - it all unfolded with exquisite slowness, all the confusion and doubt and dry submission swept away in its blooming.

_I know who I am._

With that certainty came two things: utter rage at Thalassa, for daring to take it from him.

And utter need.

_Jupiter._

She had to be nearby; the scent, _her_ scent, was too strong for it to be otherwise. Caine shook his head, forcing his eyes and ears to work again, feeling his chest ache with a yearning so deep it was almost panic; and yet a bubble of laughter rose in his throat, because for all his fears and all Thalassa's efforts, it was Jupiter's scent that had led him straight to their quarters.

He set down his club and pricked his ears, and yes, he could hear her voice somewhere deeper in the bungalow. The lack of light didn't hinder him; he tracked her sound and scent, heart pounding - there, _there._ In their bedroom, just a few strides away. He made them quickly, straining to hear her more clearly -

The room was dim, only one low light on, and Jupiter was sitting on the bed, shoulders hunched and fists clenched as she leaned over the little holo console. "I know, Stinger," she said to it, and the agony in her voice made Caine want to cry out. "I _know_ , but I couldn't - "

" _You couldn't have thought of something else?"_ the image of Stinger said, angry and upset.

"He was _right._ " Jupiter gulped. "Look, keep Transport locked down and maybe we can talk him out of - "

Her voice broke; she shook her head, and tapped the off-switch, cutting Stinger off mid-retort before burying her face in her hands. Caine saw her shoulders heave as she drew in a stuttering breath, and the utter _defeat_ in her posture burned through him like a laser pulse.

"Don't," someone said, and it took Caine a second to realize that the pain-filled voice was his own. "Don't, _Jupiter - "_

She froze.

Caine closed the distance between them in an eyeblink and dropped to his knees before her, pulling her hands gently down. Jupiter's eyes were huge and dazed, her lips moved silently over his name; Caine pressed her palms to his face, needing the touch of her skin more than he needed his next breath.

"Caine?" she said, voice cracking; he nodded, moving his jaw enough to kiss the heel of her hand.

Jupiter made one anguished sound, and flung herself off the bed and into his embrace.

_Yes -_

Caine wrapped her up in his arms, tight and tighter, feeling hers close around his neck, her breath sobbing against his throat. He buried his face in her hair, drawing in her scent directly from her skin, filling himself with it as if it were food after long starvation. His chest constricted with anguish and relief and all the abject love that had been stolen from him, and the only thing that made it bearable was the desperate clutch of her hands in his shirt and the feel of her pressed against him.

Caine staggered up and dropped them both onto the bed, curling himself around Jupiter and wishing he still had his wings to wrap her close. She burrowed into him, shuddering, and he held her as tightly as he dared. It seemed impossible that he could have forgotten this, forgotten _her_ ; how could he not remember everything that brought him joy?

It took a long time for her to relax, and when Jupiter lifted her head Caine bent his own to touch her face with his lips, caressing her flushed skin and easing his need to know her taste afresh. One trembling hand slipped around his nape to hold him still, and Jupiter's gaze met his, almost too close to focus and still somehow hurting. "You're - you remember?" she whispered.

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Yes, your Majesty," he murmured, and she choked out a laugh, making him smile. Jupiter shuddered again and sniffled, wiping her face with her other hand.

"I'm not dreaming?" she said, her own smile wavering. "Please, Caine, tell me I'm not - "

He kissed her instead, trying to erase the fear he could still smell on her, and oh the taste of her, the small sound she made and her fingers tightening in his hair - he remembered how much he had _missed_ her, all the time he'd been gone.

Or almost all of it -

And then he was shaking as well, and Jupiter was holding him hard, pressing kisses against the side of his head as he shoved his face into her shoulder. She was crying again, but laughing too, and they clung together in a huddle of raw, aching joy, beyond words and needing none.

Pack. Family. Love.

_Home._

* * *

Jupiter had a headache, and she didn't care at all.

Dawn was creeping in the windows, lightening the air of the room, and she knew the world outside was warming towards its familiar gold. Her head hurt with weeping and too little sleep; her stomach complained of emptiness.

But none of it mattered. The only thing that did was the heavy warm weight covering her from sternum to toes, and the look in Caine's eyes where his head rested on her chest.

His arms were still tight around her, and she couldn't stop running one hand through his hair; the other stroked the breadth of his shoulders, every touch an affirmation that he was real.

"I'm gonna fire everybody," she said lazily after a while. "If I'd opened that room days ago it would have solved the whole problem."

Caine sighed. "I wouldn't have let you," he said, and she felt him shiver. "I was terrified that if I smelled you I would try to kill you."

Jupiter took his head in both hands and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "Knew you wouldn't," she said, and dropped another on his nose. "And I was right, too."

Caine growled, and surged upward to catch her mouth with his. Jupiter pulled him closer, absorbing his taste and smell, part of her wanting to blot out the agonized weeks just past with the renewed wonder of his presence. It felt like Caine had returned from death itself, an impossible miracle, and she kept expecting to wake again to desolation.

But he _was_ real, soft scarred skin and warm weight, strong hands and exquisitely gentle mouth, and Jupiter clamped down on the tears that threatened once more.

It was a long time before Caine sighed again and spoke, lips moving a mere few inches from her face, and even then his voice was so quiet Jupiter almost couldn't understand. "She still owns my contract."

Jupiter growled herself, or as close as she could come with a purely human throat. "It doesn't matter. We'll find some way around it if I have to rewrite the entire legal system, but you're staying with _me,_ understand?"

It was ridiculously possessive, but the smile that spread over Caine's face made her heart swell. "Yes, your Majesty."

He laid his head on her chest again, and Jupiter tightened her hold and bared her teeth at the thought of Simone Thalassa.

 _You're_ _**not** _ _getting him back._

Eventually, it wasn't her stomach but his that interrupted them, and Jupiter laughed at the pink that tinged Caine's ears even as his grip strengthened. "Me too," she said.

"Betrayed by metabolism," he grumbled, and sat up, bringing Jupiter with him without discernable effort.

"I need to call Stinger anyway," Jupiter said with a pang of guilt. "He's probably out looking for you right now."

Caine pressed his nose beneath her ear and inhaled, then rubbed his cheek against her throat; Jupiter wasn't sure it was an entirely conscious act. "May I do it, Majesty?"

She grinned. "Of course." Reluctantly, she wriggled free of his grip; his hands were slow to release her, and he let out a shaky breath as she stood.

Jupiter couldn't help reaching out to cup his face and give him another kiss; it was meant to be quick, but just the touch of his mouth undid her, and she wanted to dive back into his arms and _never_ let go.

 _Stinger,_ the responsible part of her brain insisted. _Breakfast._ Jupiter managed to talk her feet into backing up, and tried to ignore the tiny whimper Caine made when their lips parted. "Make the call. I'm going to see about some food."

Caine's hand covered hers, pressing it to his cheek. "I...I'd rather not see anyone else. Yet." His eyes were wide and vulnerable, and Jupiter's heart contracted with love and pain.

"There's plenty of stuff in the kitchen. When you're done I'll call Vee and have her put everything off for the day. It'll make her happy."

Caine huffed a laugh, and let her go.

Jupiter ducked into the lavatory briefly, then came out to get one of the nifty analgesic spritzers that were the equivalent of an aspirin for anyone who couldn't afford ReCell. One squirt on the back of her tongue and her headache vanished, though her stomach was still yelling.

So was Stinger, over the comm. There was no image, since he apparently wasn't near a console, but Caine was leaning back against the holo console with his arms folded and a smirk on his face. _" - you didn't call me sooner!"_

"We were distracted," Jupiter cut in, grinning herself. "Let everybody else know, will you, Stinger?"

They could hear Stinger's heavy breaths, and then he laughed, a little raw. _"'Course I will. And I'll talk to_ _ **you**_ _later, you lucky bastard."_

"I'm looking forward to it," Caine said, smirk widening, and cut the call.

In the end, it was Caine who made breakfast, since Jupiter's skills had never advanced much beyond sandwiches. She sat at the little table and watched him cook, staying out of the way only because distractions caused burns, and when the food was ready they ate in the lounge, Jupiter seated between Caine's knees on the long couch and leaning back against his arm. It was easy to feed him bites, lifting a forkful to his lips; he fed her in turn, fingers brushing her cheek lightly with each morsel.

Neither of them lingered over the meal, and as soon as they were finished Jupiter rolled over to wrap herself around Caine again. He snugged her in tightly, and she could feel him trembling, an almost indiscernible quiver.

The words took a while to surface. "I missed you so much." She pulled in a hurting breath. "I was so scared, you disappeared and - "

Her voice squeaked off, remembered grief and fear knotting in Jupiter's throat. Caine pressed his face into her hair, and she could feel him tasting the strands. "I knew you'd find me," he whispered. "Counted on it - "

Jupiter squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the heat of tears on her lashes; her fingers were digging into Caine's skin under his shirt, but she doubted he cared. "Always," she managed. "Always, always - "

His trembling deepened to shudders, and he gasped once, twice; Jupiter could count on two fingers the times she'd seen him weep, and she held him all the tighter as he choked and shook. The only thing that kept her own sobs at bay was considering all the ways she would make Simone Thalassa _hurt_.

She kissed him slowly when he calmed, his skin hot and damp against her lips, and he tipped up his chin to offer her more of it. His hand slid under the hem of her top, touch slow and feathery, and Jupiter knew he was deliberately remembering, bringing up the sensation that had been hidden from him. _We could have made new memories_ slid past her thoughts; and she wanted to cry _again_ , because she was so grateful they didn't have to.

"I love you," she murmured to Caine's cheekbone. "I would have done anything I had to to get you back. I would have gutted her if I had to."

He puffed a tiny laugh into her throat, rubbing gently, _taking your mark_ as he'd once explained with a shy duck of his head. "You may get the chance."

Jupiter let her lips curl against his temple. "I'll borrow your knife to do it. _Caine -_ "

"Ah - " He pressed his mouth to her pulse, and things got blurry for a bit, when sight wasn't as important as touch and taste, as the feel of his hair under her fingertips or the way Caine's breathing quickened. Jupiter reflected dimly that the bed would be more comfortable, but just then it was way too far away for them to bother.

Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, taking in every moment; Jupiter treasured each one even as they slipped past her, because they had come so close to having none left. Caine held her close, gaze locked on hers, and she cupped his face in her hands and returned his stare, a silent promise even when pleasure shut her eyes and made him cry out.

_I'm here._

* * *

He wasn't sleepy, but Caine didn't have the least inclination to move. Jupiter was tucked around him where he curled on his side in their bed, one leg thrown over his and her arm around his torso; she was snoring faintly against his back. Caine's fingers were meshed with hers so he could cradle her hand against his chest, and there was absolutely nothing he would change about that moment.

It was so good to be home.

He could remember the entire time of his memory loss quite clearly, but it felt like a dream - the unpleasant, vivid, gluey kind that wasn't _quite_ a nightmare but was still a relief to escape. Being thrown back to his past self was like taking a wound dealt from behind, painful and somehow unfair, and it hurt to think how dry and empty he'd been.

 _I had nothing, nothing at all, not even the tattered rag I called honor._ Because he knew, now, what the difference was. He had people who loved him, who gave _him_ respect, who looked at him and saw someone worthy regardless of what skills or talents he could offer. Now he could see the hollow structure that had kept him prisoned all his life.

Honor...honor meant nothing without respect, and the value in duty lay in _choice_. And he chose to follow, chose to obey, _chose_ to bow his head.

Well, and occasionally chose to _dis_ obey, but Jupiter would say that was part of having the choice, and Caine could only agree. And unlike Thalassa, Jupiter was deserving of his loyalty.

He lifted her hand to his mouth just for her warmth against his lips. It seemed as if his hunger for her scent and skin would never be satisfied, but Caine knew it would ease with time. Fortunately, Jupiter felt the same way.

He did wonder what Thalassa would do. She would be beyond fury now; not only had Jupiter stolen Caine from her, but she had made a fool of the Splicer, and compounded the insult with the compensation for damage done in the raid.

 _But she can't touch an Entitled, not one with the power Jupiter has._ And while Thalassa might turn to the law to try to regain Caine, it wouldn't work. Even if she _was_ in the right. Caine smiled against Jupiter's palm.

_She will not give me up, not for anything; not by law or by force._

It was an upwelling of silent, awe-laced joy within him. He was _wanted._

Thalassa might try, but she would not succeed. Jupiter would protect Caine's freedom; Caine, and all of her Majesty's people, would protect Jupiter.

He relaxed his grip just so he could bare his teeth in defiance. _She is ours as much as we are hers. You cannot have me, and you cannot harm_ _ **her**_ _._

Behind him, Jupiter snuffled awake, sighing against his back; Caine could feel her smile against his spine, and then she laid a slow kiss there before shifting to add more where his wings had been. Caine arched back into her touch, biting back a whimper; the skin was still a bit sensitive, and though it hadn't been his fault this time, the loss stung.

"I'll get you new ones," Jupiter said, her arm tightening as if he'd spoken. "Any kind you like, Caine, any upgrade you want." She kissed the spot again, tasting him delicately, and Caine could hardly breathe. "They'll be _yours_ , not something anybody can take away - "

She knew him, knew him all through, and it was _wonderful._ Caine rolled over, laying her gently on her back so he could return the kisses, stroke her shoulders, lick the hollow of her throat. _"Your Majesty."_

Jupiter laughed, reaching up to him, and Caine breathed love and devotion into her, and felt it all returned tenfold.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, folks! I fell asleep sitting up last night trying to get this finished. Thanks for putting up with all the angst! 
> 
> Thanks as ever to [FlorentineQuill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FlorentineQuill/pseuds/FlorentineQuill) for reassuring me, and [Cincoflex](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex) for okaying that one last-minute fragment. Love you both!

Caine wasn't sure what time it was, but it didn't really matter. He had spent the day alone with his Queen, neither of them venturing far from one another, and the desperate need to be in contact had mostly eased; but he still felt bruised, somehow, and he knew Jupiter felt the same.

They had come out to the deck facing the lake to watch the large moon, known as Mother to the locals, rise; the lounge there was more than large enough for them both, not that they were using all the space.

Mother and two of her smaller children lit the night like twilight on Jupiter's Earth and made the lake a pool of delicate fire. But nothing was so beautiful to Caine as the woman held closely in his arms.

"What happened?" Jupiter asked, one finger tracing an old scar on his chest. "Can you tell me?"

Caine looked down at the top of her head. Her voice was gentle, and he knew she meant "if you want".

Once he might have refused, out of fear of seeming weak, or disbelief that she might actually want to know, but he knew better now. "Probably nothing as bad as you're imagining."

Jupiter huffed at the humor in his voice, tilting her head back to look up at him. "You don't want to know what I imagined."

Caine shook his head, and pressed a kiss to the warmth of her forehead. "Thalassa didn't have time to get very far; she wasn't in a hurry."

"Fucking butcher," Jupiter grumbled, squirming out of his grip to straddle his thighs and meet his gaze straight on, hands bracing on his chest and staying to caress. Caine felt his muscles twitch with the reflex to wrap his missing wings around her, and settled for his hands on her waist, dipping under her shirt and smoothing over her skin.

"It...mostly it was examinations, physical and mental," Caine began, looking down to watch his thumbs stroke her hipbones. "To be honest, it was pretty boring."

Jupiter didn't say anything, but he could feel her listening. It was easier to speak if he didn't watch her face and the expressions flickering over it, though her distress and anger were clear enough from her scent. Caine outlined the long days and nights in a few sentences, trying to sketch in how fear and horror had reached up from the past to score him.

"I didn't fight them at first," he added. "I figured my best strategy was just to wait for you to find me."

Jupiter's fingers curled into fists against his breastbone. "We were looking," she said quietly. "As soon as you were late calling in, we started."

He'd known that, but it was still good to _hear_ it. Caine leaned forward to kiss her again, and they lost a few minutes in the long slow slide of touch and comfort. It was an effort to pull away.

"There was one exam - I overheard the techs." Caine thought back to that hazy hour under the scanner. "They said that Thalassa bribed Atadie to conceal my contract sale, that she didn't want you to interfere."

Jupiter tensed under his hands, and he kept going. "After that I tried to escape." Again and again, and he wasn't going to tell her about the restraints or the plasma wand if he could possibly help it, because it would hurt her so much - "I got pretty close a few times, but..."

Jupiter nodded. "Stinger and Phylo found the clues," she said. "It was enough for me to squeeze the truth out of Atadie."

Caine let his lips curve in a smile; he would have liked to have seen _that._ "I guess Thalassa got tired of it, because she brought me into a lab…" He shivered, humor falling away. "They strapped me down and showed me pictures of _you_. And did something to the inside of my head."

Jupiter shuddered, reaching up to cradle Caine's face. He pushed into the touch, swallowing bile at the memory. "When I woke up, you were gone, it was all _gone_. Everything, right back to the Deadland. I was...I was what I was before." Before Jupiter, before freedom, before happiness. All of it, snatched away, and he wanted to howl in rage and sorrow even though he'd gotten it back.

Jupiter's thumb stroked the corner of his mouth, her face taut with anguish. Caine tried to smile at her. "It could have been worse," he offered. "I didn't know what I had lost."

"Screw _worse_ ," his Queen said fiercely. "She was trying to break you from the inside out."

"It wasn't…" _It wasn't so bad,_ he wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. The only thing that would was the truth.

"It was lonely," he said. "Jupiter...I was so _lonely_."

She choked, and wrapped him in a hug as fierce as her voice, as fierce as her spirit. "Never again," she said in his ear, almost a growl. " _Never_ again. She'll never lay a _finger_ on you again."

He held on tight, and even though Jupiter was so much smaller, Caine felt surrounded, enfolded, protected. _Safe._

And it was strange, because his own safety had never much mattered before, not to him or anyone else. But now...now it _meant_ something.

It meant that someone cared.

The need to howl passed, and all he wanted to do was hold her.

Forever.

* * *

Jupiter woke to the murmur of voices a room away. For an instant, alarm rose in her as her reaching hand met only empty sheets, but then she recognized one low rumble as Caine, and relaxed.

Sighing, she rolled over and stretched, slow and luxurious. The windows were still dark, which didn't surprise her; Jupiter usually woke early, long-standing habit meeting an overflowing workload.

But, as usual, Caine was up before her, most Splices requiring less sleep than pure humans. Jupiter couldn't quite identify the other voice, but she was pretty sure it was Stinger on the other end of the comm.

She felt a little guilty for not letting Stinger see Caine the day before, but it had really been Caine's choice, and she knew Stinger understood.

Jupiter took a moment to close her eyes and send out a formless but fervent thanks to whatever of the universe might be listening, for the incredible keenness of lycantant noses and the tie of scent to memory.

Then the smell of breakfast hit her own nose, and she sighed again and sat up. _Time to get on with it, your Majesty. Today's going to be extra busy._

When she padded out to the little kitchen, dressed but without her overvest, Caine was just dishing out food, and Jupiter knew he'd heard her get up. She gave him a grin and a kiss. "Okay with going back out there?"

Caine nodded and pulled out her chair, a habit he'd picked up after visiting her family on Earth. "Stinger and Diomika want to meet with you first thing, regarding strategy."

He didn't have to say for what; the wealthy of the Gyre might have a different perception of time, but it was definitely best to be prepared for whatever move Thalassa might make. "I'll have Vee squeeze them in somewhere - right after the lawyers, if possible." She echoed Caine's grimace at the thought of that pernicious subset of the Commonwealth legal system. "I haven't had time to catch up with them lately and I want to see what they've found out."

 _If anything._ Orusian law was so labyrinthine that even androids needed time to search through clauses and precedent, but if there was any way to get Caine's contract away from Thalassa using legal means, Jupiter was up for it. _If not, we wing it._

They ate like normal people, even though Caine kept watching Jupiter like he wanted to pull her into his lap again. Jupiter wished he _would_ , but they didn't really have time for it - bureaucracy waited for no being. And neither did Vee, unless specifically ordered otherwise.

Jupiter was just stacking the plates when she heard the front porch alarm chime. "Oh, for - stand down the synths and let me in!" Stinger bellowed from the other side of the door.

"Use the shutdown codes!" Caine shouted back, grinning, and Jupiter started to laugh. "It's not like you don't know them."

"Reboot takes too long!" But a moment later the door slid open and Stinger came in, trying to frown and failing utterly. "You insufferable puppy," he said to Caine. "You have no idea how lucky you are."

"I do," Caine said, still grinning, and was enveloped in a truly impressive hug. Jupiter slid the dishes into the recycler and enjoyed the sight; Caine deserved all the hugs he could get, and she knew Stinger had been just as worried.

Nor had he been the only one. As Caine stepped out of the bungalow ahead of Jupiter, he froze; Stinger reached past her to shove him firmly between the shoulderblades, and Jupiter ducked out to see a little crowd waiting in front of the building. They were mostly Security and the royal guard, and they were already cheering.

Caine flushed a deep pink, and Jupiter had the feeling that if he still had his wings he'd be flying away - or trying to hide behind them. She took his hand and tugged him off the porch. "They're happy you're back," she told him. "Enjoy it!"

He shot her a look that was mingled embarrassment and betrayal, but she could see his lips curving up despite it. A second later he was surrounded by people wanting to welcome him back with a touch or a word, and Jupiter edged back next to Stinger to give them all room.

"Did you arrange this?" she asked in a low voice, and he snorted.

"Not a chance. They were here when I got here."

Caine was smiling openly now, still embarrassed but clearly moved as the crowd eddied around him, and Jupiter watched with pleasure.

_Yes, love. You have a family now; time to get used to it._

She settled back to wait, content.

* * *

The morning was distinctly odd, and not for the reasons Caine expected.

It took hours for his ears to cool down, partly because it seemed that almost every member of her Majesty's staff wanted to tell Caine how happy they were that he was back, and each time it made him blush. It was _astonishing_.

It wasn't as if he hadn't made friends on Dvodie III, though it had taken him some time to accept the notion in the first place. But the flood of support was overwhelming.

The lawyers, however, were enough to provide a distraction. They filed into her Majesty's main briefing room just after she'd finished a hasty lunch, six perfectly pressed androids whose smell of electricity and dust never failed to remind Caine of Orus' endless lines. Behind them came Captain Tsing and Stinger, who sat at Jupiter's end of the table while the androids ranged themselves around the rest. Caine, with deliberate pleasure, sat at Jupiter's right hand.

Jupiter looked around the table, focusing on the senior advocate. "First things first - I'm concerned for Mr. Wise's safety. Miss Chalm, I want you to file for asylum for Mr. Wise immediately - here on Dvodie, if possible, but any of my holdings will do."

The android's left earpiece popped out a few centimeters, her gleaming smile stiffening. "Your Majesty, Mr. Wise is not a citizen. He can't claim asylum."

Jupiter leaned forward, face stern. "He's a human being. _Argue the point_. If nothing else it will keep things tied up for a while."

Chalm's nose twitched. "Yes, of course."

Jupiter relaxed a little. "Then what else have you got, Miss Chalm?"

"A possibility, your Majesty!" the android said cheerfully. In Caine's experience she was almost never _not_ cheerful. "A small one."

Jupiter raised her brows. She'd adjusted to androids with the same success she'd adjusted to the existence of Splices, aliens, and portal tech, but Caine knew she disliked lawyers; still, she tried to keep it to herself. "Can you elaborate a bit there?"

"Of course!" Chalm beamed. "Some 65,000 years ago, a Splice succeeded in suing their Splicer for the right to their own contract. At the time, passing a law to prevent this was unfeasible due to severe schism in the Ruling Council of Orus, so instead multiple requirements were put in place to prevent another such occurrence. So far they have been successful."

Caine had little interest in history outside of that of the Legion, but he couldn't remember learning of a time when the Ruling Council _wasn't_ divided. But it didn't matter; the effect was the same.

Jupiter glanced his way and opened a hand, palm up, in silent question; Caine nodded back. If Jupiter couldn't own his contract, then he would take it himself if he could.

"All right then. Get started on those requirements."

Chalm bowed a little, though headpieces on two of the others whirled nervously. A third, the only one who lacked a smile, held up a sheave. "We have already begun, your Majesty. We will need Mr. Wise's authorization at various points, however."

Caine shrugged. "You know where to find me."

Chalm folded her hands on the table. "Your Majesty does understand that this will take some time...a decade, perhaps twelve years? Assuming it can be achieved at all."

Jupiter winced. "Speed it up as much as you can. I'm not above bribes here, folks. I want Mr. Wise's contract in his hands as soon as possible."

"A simple assassination would be a faster solution," Chalm said. "The contract would still be held by Miss Thalassa's enterprise, but there would be no reason for the stockholders to refuse sale."

"No." Her Majesty frowned. "I don't like killing, and at the moment I'm not interested in anything so extreme."

"What form of retribution does your Majesty have in mind?" Chalm asked.

Jupiter looked at Caine again, making sure. They'd discussed it, the day before, wrapped up in a sheet but still skin to skin.

" _Do you want me to take her down?" Jupiter asks. "I can do it, one way or another. We can ruin her, blacklist her, whatever you like - even have her killed, I suppose."_

_Her face and her scent are both serious, and Caine can tell she means it. The thought appeals, having Thalassa at her Majesty's mercy, all her arrogance and disinterested cruelty shattered and swept away._

_But...that's not the kind of power that Jupiter is trying to be; it's foreign to the warm-hearted woman he loves so desperately, the ex-tercie who knows what it's like to be_ _**without** _ _power, and who prefers mercy to justice._

_Caine shakes his head. "You took me back and publicly humiliated her," he says. "That will follow her for centuries. It's enough."_

_Jupiter bites her lip. "Are you sure?" she says. "If I do it, I do it for_ _**you** _ _, Caine. You're the one she hurt."_

_And he has to laugh, just a little, because when in all the history of the universe has a queen offered to slay a powerful enemy for the sake of a disgraced Splice? Kiza was right; Jupiter_ _**changes** _ _things._

" _It's enough," he says again, and it is; he wouldn't mind seeing Thalassa suffer, but he doesn't need to._

_He's already defeated her._

Caine nodded back, and Jupiter's mouth quirked before she turned back to the lawyer. "None at this time."

Both of Chalm's earpieces popped out in shock this time, but Jupiter raised a hand before she, or anyone else, could protest. "I'm going to ask Thalassa one more time, politely, to release Mr. Wise's contract to me. If she complies, well and good, and we're done. If not..." Her chin went up. "What we do next will depend on how she reacts, but let me put it this way. She's not going to be in a position to do this again."

She sat back in her chair. "Which is why I need all the information we have on Bavar's Coreworld. You folks - " Jupiter pointed at the lawyers. "You can go. Get started on the sheavework for asylum, and good for you for starting the other thing early." She nodded at the one grave advocate, who bowed. "The rest of you, please stay."

The androids all bowed again, and left, though Chalm was looking back in open curiosity. Jupiter spoke to the air. "Jarvis, get the finance team down here. And order up some snacks."

"Majesty...what are you planning?" Diomika asked, speaking over Jarvis' quiet _At once, ma'am._

Jupiter's grin was wicked. "Contingency planning."

He wasn't telepathic. But suddenly Caine _knew_ what she was thinking...and the audacity of it was astonishing. He couldn't stop his own smirk. "Keeping it simple, your Majesty?"

Jupiter chuckled, and leaned over to squeeze his hand. "How'd you like to burn it all down?"

* * *

"You look great." Jupiter reached up to smooth the collar of Caine's tunic, and he bent a little to make it easier, relishing the brush of her fingers against his throat. "You sure you can't feel the tracker?"

Caine shook his head. It was a last-chance precaution, the tiny ping trace embedded in the skin of his abdomen, but Jupiter had wanted every contingency covered. "It's fine, your Majesty."

Jupiter sighed and stepped back, glancing around at the ornate, high-ceilinged reception area. It was a far cry from the grimy corridors and offices that made up most of Orus; the Entitled enclaves were displays of wealth and power, and showed it. "You're still not sure about this."

"I don't like using you as bait," Jupiter said, a bit sharp. "That's what this is, you know."

Caine shrugged. "It won't be the first time." At her glare, he reached out in turn, to tuck back a wisp of hair that was threatening to come loose from her elaborate coiffure. "I want to be here. And it's still her choice."

"I suppose." Jupiter looked around the room. It had wide arched windows that looked out over enclosed gardens below; Orus had used up all its land millennia prior, but the wealthiest sections had a number of such spaces, carefully cultivated. The sinuous decor looked as if it were trying to mimic the plant life, but it was so thickly ornamented that it was hard to tell.

There were a few couches and loungers in the room, but other than that it was empty of furniture. The members of Jupiter's royal guard who had accompanied them had posted themselves at intervals around the perimeter of the room; two were in her livery, but the rest were doing their best to look unnoticeable in hastily-acquired Aegis fatigues.

" _Majesty, Mr. Wise,"_ Tsing's voice said through her comm bracelet and Caine's implant. _"Thalassa just docked and she's on her way. Estimated arrival two minutes."_

"How many guards are with her?" Caine asked.

" _Three, but she's instructing one that he's to stay outside the door,"_ Tsing replied.

"Good." Jupiter smoothed her hands down her elaborate skirt, and walked over to the nearest couch that faced the wide double door. "You ready?"

Caine hesitated, and Jupiter cocked her head. "What is it?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, and then forced himself to speak. "Her scent...it's always meant bad things." He shrugged, trying to seem at ease. "I won't let it affect me, I just…"

Jupiter's eyes narrowed, and then she came back over, beckoning him down. One small hand wrapped around the back of his neck to hold him in place, and then the warm stroke of her tongue drew a stripe of moisture from his top lip to the tip of his nose.

Caine's eyes widened at the caress - non-lycantants weren't usually much for licking, though thankfully Jupiter let him do it to her as he pleased. And then her genius came clear, because when he pulled in a breath the enticing, essential smell of her predominated.

He grinned.

Jupiter smirked up at him, then let him go to return to the couch. "Showtime."

Caine could hear footsteps outside. He took up his post next to her, folding his hands behind his back and standing straight, and the doors slid apart to admit Simone Thalassa and two of her personal guard.

Even without scent Caine could tell she was deep in an icy rage, her face rigid with fury and disdain. She swept up to the couch, the lycantants flanking her and her gaze fixed on Jupiter. Caine breathed carefully, grateful for Jupiter's quick thinking that let him smell only her.

"You upstart tercie savage," Thalassa said, her voice flat and tight. "How _dare_ you trespass on my property? How dare you steal from me? Entitled or not I will see you pay for this."

Jupiter gave her an unamused look and rose to her feet. She was still shorter than the Splicer, but somehow that didn't seem to matter at all, and Caine had to force his attention from her to the guards. They bore the usual small sidearms, but he knew better than anyone that they themselves were weapons. Fortunately, they seemed to believe that the personnel against the walls were Aegis, and thus neutral.

"I did pay for it," Jupiter retorted evenly. "And I could ask you the same. How dare you steal from _Caine_? You took his freedom and his _memories_ \- "

"The Splice is my property," Thalassa cut in, and she didn't even look at him. "I have the right to do whatever I choose with him."

Jupiter regarded her coldly. "Y'know, where I come from, we know the difference between a legal right and a moral one." She put her hands on her hips. "Clearly that's beyond you, but never mind. I asked you to meet with me because I have something to discuss with you."

Thalassa looked even angrier. "The suits against you for theft, property damage, and all the rest are filed. I will not retract them."

"That's not what I'm asking," Jupiter said impatiently, and Caine saw Thalassa's lenses shift. "I'm giving you one last chance. Sell Mr. Wise's contract to me."

Thalassa actually laughed, a dry and scornful sound. "Surely you're jesting."

"I'm not." Jupiter frowned. "Time's almost up, Miss Thalassa. You can come out ahead, or you can lose."

Thalassa raised her chin, looking down at Jupiter as if she were vermin. "You're pathetic. Raising up a misbred Splice, and for what? A moment's lust? You don't even have an Entitled's class." She snorted. "Zag, collect B7 and let's go."

The lycantant nearest Caine started to move towards him, but Jupiter stepped in between them. Caine gritted his teeth, biting down on the reflex that told him _he_ should be between _her_ and danger, not the other way around.

The guard hesitated, knowing better than to attack an Entitled, and it was just enough time for two of the royal guard to step up behind each lycantant and fire. The double stun was enough to drop them both where they stood.

Thalassa's mouth fell open, and for a long second she froze; and then she lifted one hand and swung it towards Jupiter's face, _hard_.

Her wrist smacked into Caine's palm as he nudged Jupiter out of the way, and he closed his fist around it, not bothering to be gentle. It was the first time he had touched his creator, and it felt very strange to be _taller_. "No," he told her, and leaving off the honorific was suddenly easy.

She gaped up at him, the many facets of her lenses returning his image over and over, and distantly it came to him that it would be just as easy to wrap his other hand around her neck and snap it. It would even be legal, or close enough, since she had moved to attack his Queen first.

But he didn't. Killing didn't bother him, but Jupiter had a plan, and Thalassa's death would lessen its impact. Besides…

_...I want to watch her fall._

" _Release me_ , you misbegotten failure!" Thalassa spat, yanking, but her strength was no match for the power she'd bred into him. Caine simply twisted her arm behind her back and put his other hand on her shoulder, turning her to face Jupiter.

"Your Majesty," he said over her head, ignoring Thalassa's incoherent sputter.

Jupiter folded her arms. "All right, Miss Thalassa. You're done."

Thalassa snarled. "You can't touch me, I'm - "

"You're _done,_ " Jupiter repeated, cutting her off. "While you were busy setting up lawsuits, I was on the comm with the Bavar Corporation. I now _own_ the Coreworld."

Once again, Thalassa was speechless, her arm gone limp in Caine's grasp. Jupiter smiled, small and grim. "Because it's a corporate world, the owner gets to make the laws. You got some pretty nice tax breaks, didn't you?"

Her smile widened. "It may interest you to know that enslaving sentient beings is now illegal on the Coreworld, just like on all my other holdings."

"You - you can't - "

"Actually, it was automatic once I bought it, it's how I structured my setup when I took power." Jupiter glanced over Thalassa's shoulder at Caine, her smile warming for an instant. "And guess what, being in violation means...fines. A _lot_ of fines."

Thalassa choked. Jupiter turned up one hand. "The value of your operation should just about cover it. I'll see to it that your personal effects are sent on - unless Mr. Wise has changed his mind." Her gaze met his again in silent inquiry.

But he'd already chosen. "I'm satisfied."

Jupiter nodded, and looked down at the unconscious lycantants. "Mr. Wise tells me we can't separate your personal guards from you, so we'll leave them. Poor kids."

"You _can't,_ " Thalassa said weakly. "You - I'll sue - " But she sounded more desperate than angry now.

Jupiter shrugged. "You can try. If you have enough money left to do it with."

She stepped past Caine and Thalassa, moving carefully around the bulky body of the nearest guard. "Ready?" she asked Caine.

He cocked his head, considering, then leaned down to breathe in Thalassa's ear. "You brought this on yourself," he said softly. "I belong to her, because I _choose_ to."

When he let her arm go, Thalassa stumbled away, half-falling onto the couch; she was grey with shock. Caine turned his back on her, offering Jupiter his arm, and his Queen smiled as she hooked her hand over his elbow. "Let's go," she said. "I have a company to dismantle."

They left the room without looking back; the lycantant posted outside was conscious and furious, held at gunpoint by four more of Jupiter's royal guard, with Stinger supervising. He tossed them a vague salute as they passed, the two undisguised soldiers following.

"Are you okay?" Jupiter asked as they neared her shuttle. "That whole thing was pretty intense."

Caine stopped walking, tugging gently so that Jupiter swung around to face him, and reached up to cup her face in his hand. "You own my contract now," he said, leaning forward until his nose just brushed hers.

She shook her head minutely, not enough to break the contact. "That doesn't mean I own _you_."

What he'd told Thalassa had been true, but not complete; he'd belonged to Jupiter long before he'd realized it, let alone made a choice. But every day with his Queen _was_ a choice; it was just that making it was easy.

_Yes. Always yes._

He smiled. "I understand, your Majesty."

Jupiter laughed, pressing closer. "Then let's go get started."

* * *

Shutting down Thalassa's Splicing facility took time. Jupiter didn't want to throw all the the employees out of work at once, and besides there were hundreds of immature and unsold Splices that had to be dealt with first.

Jupiter gave them _all_ a choice.

Some chose to have their contracts put on the market, taking up the destiny they'd been bred for, and as much as it made her sick Jupiter allowed it, though she'd never seen Caine smile so wide as when she gave each Splice the money generated by their sale.

Others chose to leave their contracts in her hands - which meant, she explained to them, that they could do whatever work they wanted to that was open to them, and the only reason she wasn't _giving_ them their contracts was because it was forbidden by law. Quite a number of them immediately applied for positions with her security section, which Caine had told her to expect.

"The kids are harder," Jupiter said to him one evening, after she'd spent the day talking with facility personnel. "There's six fresh litters of baby lycantants and two more of giganthorpes, which is not a word I've seen before, so apparently this has a time frame of at least ten years before it's finished."

She was tired; the whole thing was draining and immensely _complicated_. But one of the privileges of rule was delegation, and Jupiter reminded herself that Orchris was already organizing appropriate people to handle what didn't require her personal attention. Including assistance for all of the workers Thalassa had bred for her facility, who had never had a choice either.

Caine handed her a cup of her favorite tea before guiding her to the couch in their quarters and pressing her down to sit. "That gives you time to work on the legislation."

Jupiter pulled him down next to her, snuggling into his arms as soon as he was seated. "I think it's going to need longer than that." Pushing a law allowing Splices to own their contracts free and clear was _not_ going to be easy.

Caine shrugged, settling her against him for a proper cuddle. "Doesn't matter. You're already offering them more than anyone else ever would."

"Mmm." She sipped her tea. "The baby lycantants are all _fuzzy_. It's like the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

"We lose the fur at six months, usually." Were his ears pinking again?

Jupiter grinned wickedly. "Are there pictures from when you were little?"

Caine blinked. "Probably in my records," he began, but she kissed him before he could finish, and they moved on to more important things.

* * *

Dvodie III's morning was coming up gold, tipping each tiny wave on the lake with molten light. Caine stood on their bungalow's deck, sniffing the fresh air with a pleasure that was all the deeper from having been away for days.

Jupiter was dressed in her old Aegis outfit, her Skyjacker boots weighting her feet. Her fingers were cool against his bicep. "So you get to keep the tattoo, but not my sigil?"

Caine looked down, and guided her touch to the center of the top symbol. "Once a Legionnaire, always a Legionnaire. Except this part means I'm out. Permanently this time."

Jupiter muttered something he suspected was a bad word, clearly directed at the recent past, and he pulled her fingers to his lips for a quick nip before settling them on his other shoulder. Her little frown smoothed into a smile at the symbol there - much smaller than his Legion tattoo, but just as clear. It mirrored the one she wore on her wrist, more elaborate than the sigil that had been removed.

This one had been _his_ decision.

His Queen kissed the mark lightly, making Caine shiver. "Can I see them again?"

He nodded, stepped back far enough to turn, and unfurled his new wings.

It had taken him some time to decide what he wanted, but Jupiter had been firm that cost was no object, and in the end Caine had indulged himself. His new spread was nano-based, so it folded down much more tightly than his old ones, and he'd chosen scales instead of feathers this time - more durable and easier to groom. The framework was tougher, which let him use them as weapons as well as shields, and he'd gotten his neural network upgraded as well, for finer control.

And, Jupiter's admiring sigh reminded him, they were beautiful as well. The deep black of each scale was dusted with the faintest glitter, as of stardust, and while she'd complained that they smelled different, Caine had no doubt that she would get used to them quickly.

" _Gorgeous._ This still _really_ works for me," Jupiter said, running her hands gently down both at once, and Caine pressed them back into her touch.

"I'm honored to please you, your Majesty," he said, teasing, and heard her snicker before she poked him lightly in the ribs.

"You always please me. Go on - show me what they can do."

He'd tried them before, of course, at the surgical facility, but not since. Caine took a few steps away from Jupiter, turned, and sprang into the air.

Up, and up - the new wings had twice the power of his old ones, and Caine knew Stinger was going to be insanely jealous. He climbed smoothly through the shimmering dawn, seeing the Queen's complex unfolding beneath him, smelling the water and the trees and the cool rush of the breeze; below him, Jupiter was shrinking rapidly, though he could still see her enthusiastic wave. This too was freedom, fighting gravity and winning, speed and fierce joy as he soared higher still; this was dancing with the wind, power and grace and pride all lifting him higher.

Caine dove, tumbled into a barrel roll for sheer exuberance, and waved back at the little figure on the ground as he picked up speed. She was already moving, light flaring white under her soles as she skated up towards him. He dropped again, braking at the last minute to spiral around her, and she laughed in delight and held out her hands.

Caine gathered his Queen into his arms, heart alight with bliss, and together they rose into the morning.

~End~


End file.
